


Bridging the Gap

by CaroBertaud



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Break Up, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Mytharc, Post-I Want to Believe, Pre-Season/Series 10, Pre-X-Files Revival, Sex, The End Game, The Maya prophecy, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-25 17:07:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 42,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6203728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaroBertaud/pseuds/CaroBertaud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story fills the gap between IWTB and the Revival — When Season 10 aired last month and we found out that Mulder and Scully were no longer an item, I wanted to fill these 8 years off screen. This is a story that leads to the Revival's break up, but it's filled with a tremendous love...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. CAN WE GET ANY LESS DARKNESS?

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Michelle Krueger for helping me edit this!

CHAPTER 1 (PROLOGUE). CAN WE GET ANY LESS DARKNESS?  
OFF COASTS OF GUADELOUPE, IN THE FRENCH WEST INDIES — NOVEMBER 2008

 

Comfortably settled at the back of the small boat, Scully is about to let sleep invade her thoroughly. Her hand is nonchalantly lingering outside the little craft, fondling the water with her fingertips, bringing her body an impression of freshness. But it is a false impression for midday sun is there, high above them.

"As far away from the darkness as we can get?" She had asked him. As far as the horizon goes, she cannot see the slightest shadow wherever she looks. It is not like she is seeking to find one anyway. But it still amazes her that over fifteen years later he can still startle her with the brightest ideas. Wonders never cease with him.

He has been silent for the last ten minutes, as if he had sensed she was getting tired. This connection between the two of them on the other hand was not new, nor surprising. Beyond their understanding of it, it has been there forever, since their very first day together.

Scully is not particularly looking into fighting this invading, sleepy feeling. The light breeze and the sound of waves lapping under the dinghy are lulling her.

Scully hears her own little voice, the doctor voice, inside her head, advising her to remove her white open wrap and cover her body with it to protect herself from the sun's misdeeds. She straightens a little, pulling her left sleeve with her right hand, shrugging her left shoulder to raise her arm into the cotton cloth, then passes her hands behind her back to take it out. Mulder sits upright on his bench, not missing the sight of her gentle gymnastic, surreptitiously slowing down the pace of his paddle, offering to help. But while smiling to him, she manages alright.

 

"You should put something above your shoulders too. The sunscreen is no longer effective," she warns him gently.

"Yes, Doc!" He answers while grabbing the towel underneath his buttocks and putting it over his shoulders.

 

Satisfied and reassured, Scully covers her legs with the wrap and pulls it up to her chin. Little by little, her eyelids close and her body slides along the floor of the boat, lying down, extending her position and pushing her head back against the boat structure. "And rehydrate!" She says, opening only one eye to him and closing it again. "Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may die!" She grins and falls asleep.

 

******

 

Mulder takes a glimpse behind him; the islet is just a few rowing strokes away now. He turns back to face Scully again. He feels completely serene. On one side a desert island and on the other the woman he loves. He adores watching her sleep. If he were not pulling these damn paddles, he would be caressing her forehead to repel this rebellious lock of hair that the wind pushed next to her nose, threatening to tickle and wake her.

When the strand of hair itches her nose for the third time, Mulder smoothly lets go of the oars so that they do not come thumping against the hull boat, and he kneels in front of her. He cautiously takes the hair and traps it behind her ear. He stays there a moment, just looking at her, blowing gently onto her face to bring her a little bit of freshness. He takes the towel from his shoulders, folds it several times and puts it down next to his knees. With great care, he slightly lifts up Scully's head, sustaining it in the air with one hand, while the other picks up the folded towel and slides it under her head as a pillow. He keeps his hands suspended in the air on either side of her head until he is reassured that he did not wake her up.

Without moving his eyes from her, he sits back down on the bench behind him, grabs the paddles and starts rowing again. How much he loves watching her when she sleeps. He will never weary of doing so. A tune subtly pops in his mind, and without knowing it, he starts humming "Joy to the world... All the boys and girls, now... Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea... Joy to you and me!"

He feels like he could live forever and never take his eyes off of her. But, as for now, all he can feel is an urge to lie down along her side in the shade of a palm tree. So he looks back to the small island and hastens the pace.

About fifteen minutes later, Mulder lets go of the paddles again, this time standing up to move to the boat's bow. He slides down into the water, holding himself on the canoe with both hands behind his muscled back. When his feet touch the sand, water is up to his waist. Although the turquoise water is close to eighty-five degrees, he feels a chill due to his long sun exposure and recent exercise, and he shrugs his shoulders out of impulse.

Nevertheless, Mulder accustoms to the more-than-pleasant water temperature. Slowly, he wets his entire body, starting with his arms, then his torso and the nape of his neck. Scully is still sound asleep. Her position has changed though; she is turned to her side. Her cotton sheets have fallen down a little, daring to expose a naked shoulder and the top of her black bikini bra. Gazing back to the object of all his desires, Mulder suddenly feels a rush of warmth that starts from the center of his body and rises to his face. He arches fully backwards to immerse his head. When he reemerges, he is careful not to get back up too fast and splash Scully like a wet dog.

He takes his hands off the bow and grabs the mooring rope at the very front of the boat and slowly pulls the small boat ashore, looking for a shaded spot. This place is paradise! White sand, clear and turquoise water, coconut and palm trees and some low green herbs mingle cheerfully beneath the royal blue sky. Heading to a coconut tree not far from them, Mulder uses his hand to shade his eyes as he looks upward to the top of the tree to make sure no coconuts are directly above them. From this height, a falling coconut could have unfortunate consequences.

Once he has tied the boat to the tree, Mulder cannot decide whether to let her sleep there or try to settle her more comfortably. He decides to let her be. Then he rummages through the compartment at the bow and finds a harpoon, a net and a saber. "Let's go hunting!" He says to himself in a raw masculine voice, lifting up his toys.

 

******

 

When Scully awakens in the boat, she yawns and stretches her arms. She sits upright, holding the towel to prevent it from falling in the water, and looks around her. This is amazing! This water is beautiful! She peeks down under the wooden boat and she sees colorful little fishes swimming in its shade. She gathers her clothes and the small bag that has laid beside her, and walks to shore. As she puts down her stuff by a fallen log, she looks around once more, wondering where Mulder is. For a brief moment, she wonders with mild alarm if darkness had finally found him out here. But she is almost immediately relieved when she sees him walk toward her with two fishes atop of a stick and one coconut under each arm. "Hey Scully! You're up!"

As she settles on the log, he bends down and kisses her hair, and then puts down his supplies nearby. Heading toward the boat in the water, he asks her, "Scully, you're on a desert island and can only bring one book, one CD and one movie. What would they be?"

Scully smiles thoughtfully. She relaxes deeply to think about it, putting her head back on the piece of tree and answers without having to consider much. "Obviously the book would be _'Moby Dick'_ , then a classical piece would be a good choice — maybe _'The Seasons'_ by Tchaikovsky — to relax after having watched _'The Exorcist'_."

When she replies, Mulder has his back to her, looking again in the bow's compartment. He spins around when she is finished talking, and with a genuine smile he brags, "I know you just this well!"

Walking to her, he hides something behind his back and softly says "Well, _almost_ this well. I had the CD wrong." He sits by her side before extending his arm to her to offer what he was hiding: a book, a DVD and a CD single. His face is one of a proud child, anxious to give his mom her first Mother's Day gift.

" _'Walking in Memphis'_? Why would you—? Oh!"

She turns her head towards him and gives him a gentle shove. "That's cute", she smirks. She bows her head and closes the distance with him. He closes his eyes a few seconds before she does and they exchange a long, calm and languid kiss. Mulder tenderly cups her cheek with one hand. Without breaking the kiss, Scully places the gifts on her lap and wraps her arms around his shoulders, caressing the back of his skull. At one point, Scully breaks the kiss but not the embrace. She puts her head in the curves of Mulder's neck, over his shoulder and Mulder hugs her, pulling her closer to him. They both smile.

 

"Thank you," she says, closing her eyes over his shoulder.

"No, thank _you_ ," he corrects in a whisper, brushing the base of her neck with a kiss.

 

Scully unwraps her arms, bringing her attention back to Mulder's kind presents. Before picking them up, she links her arm with Mulder's and twists it around his, like a snake around its prey. She takes the CD up to her eyes, turns her head to him, and sends him a playful smile. He smiles back.

 

"Too bad we can't play it," she pouts.

"Oh, but we can!" He answers enigmatically. She raises a questioning eyebrow and he replies with a mischievous smile "... But later!"

"Oh, come on!" She slaps him teasingly on the arm, burning with impatience.

 

He gets up with the impulse of her slap, laughing. But she is not finished with him just yet. She grabs his ankle, making him trip. Seeing him heavily fall, she suppresses a giggle and bites her lower lip. Face to the ground, he turns on his back when Scully rushes to see if he did not hurt himself. They find themselves facing each other: her hands on his bare torso and his on the back of her waist.

 

"You okay?" She muffles her chuckle.

"No, I think—", he sits up, forcing her also to a kneeling position, and pretends to check on his ankle and knee. As she looks down at him in concern, he abruptly stands up, grabs Scully by the waist and pulls her up to his shoulder. Taken by surprise, her arms and legs struggle with a "Nooo!" smothered in laughter.

 

Mulder runs joyfully to the water, his booty on the shoulder, shouting "Oh yeeees, you little cheater!" Scully's laughter rings out through the air. Before throwing themselves in the water, he tries to remember the last time he heard this laughter and realizes with some dismay that it was probably when he tried to steal the non-fat tofutti rice dreamsicle from her in the basement office. They both fall into the pool-colored sea, laughing.

They break the surface again almost immediately, his hand beneath her elbow, always protective. She snakes her arms around his neck, turning her head to cough up a bit of water that she had swallowed while laughing. When he asks her if she is okay, she loosens her grip to look into his eyes. Their faces are inches away and they gaze wordlessly at each other for a few moments before she breaks away first.

 

"I'm perfectly fine."

"I knew it!! See? Now I can believe you. I knew that without the 'perfectly', you weren't that fine."

"I love you."

"I missed you!" He says lovingly, thinking of all the times she was right next to him and yet so distant from him.

 

He cups her cheeks with two hands, delicately, as if he were holding the most precious object he had ever touched, and kisses her. She wants to be as close to him as possible, so she tightens her arms around him again, and, nearly weightless in the water, she lifts her legs around his waist and crosses her feet behind him to secure her grip. Mulder lowers his hands to her buttocks.

Scully catches her breath and feels desire, passion and love rip through her with the strength of a tsunami, and she can never get close enough to him. She wants to eat him alive, devour him, and she can tell by the urgency of his mouth that he does too. Mulder squeezes her bottom cheeks while she grabs a handful of his hair, pulling him to her even closer. She bites his lips and tongue while one of his hands starts exploring her inner thighs. His erection grows against her and she rubs herself slowly up and down across it. She lets one of her arms descend to his sex, caressing his torso and pinching his nipples on the way down. She does not break the kiss; their tongues dance inside each other's mouths. She will not break that kiss, not now, nor ever. Not this time.

She reaches inside his swimsuit for his cock and wraps her hand firmly around it and begins stroking the length of his shaft. Mulder moves her bikini bottoms aside and her breath quickens as his fingers find her. She closes her eyes and whimpers softly. As Scully grinds against his hand insistently, she starts stroking his cock harder and faster. His mouth is still against hers and she tastes so, so good but he needs to breathe. He gently starts to pull away to draw in air but she is right there pulling him back, and he knows right now there is no way he can ever stop touching her, she will not let him. He feels like their bodies are melting into one another, fusing together, two parts of a single entity, and he can hear every beat of her heart against his chest, fluttering rapidly. It matches his own heartbeat's speed, and he can almost hear the roar of blood in his head and feel it rush to his throbbing penis.

Mulder reaches around his back to the waistband of his shorts to get them off and Scully helps from front. She squirms. Neither of them can wait any longer. She positions herself over his cock while he pulls aside her bikini panties. The way she is glued to him, there is no fucking way to get these down properly. They both moan in each other mouths as he penetrates her slowly and fully. Their mouths are open against one another now, no longer kissing but still so close that they are almost exchanging breaths. Until now, their eyes have been closed, but just as they connect, their eyes lock, and it is as if they are making love for the first time, alert to the slightest signal from the other. They move together slowly, enjoying the feel of the water swirling around them. Mulder frees one hand from underwater to run a thumb across her cheek.

 

"I love and missed you so much!" He says, looking straight into her eyes as they continue their gentle thrusts.

 

She answers with another kiss. Then she puts her hands on his shoulders and straightens her arms, parting from him. As she arches and leans back to find another angle, Mulder's legs suddenly feel weak, as if they are about to give way, although Scully weighs close to nothing in the water. He puts his hands on her hips to steady himself as she moves faster, bouncing up and down on his engorged cock, her head thrown back and her mouth slightly parted. He leans forward to her to kiss the valley between her bikini bra and thinks, "Damn it! How could we have been that impatient that I didn't manage to take it off?" He straightens again, matching her pace and thrusting inside of her harder and deeper. He watches her face, flushed and panting. He is about to tell her that he is close to coming when he sees her move one hand to her clit. "Oh Jeez please..." He thinks. She squeezes her muscles hard against him and he breathes, "Oh God, Scully, this is so good..." Hearing her name, she comes with a long moan, and just after a few more frantic thrusts he empties himself inside of her.

They are out of breath and trembling. He puts his hands behind her back to steady her, and she rests her head on his shoulder, cuddling him affectionately. He realizes for the first time that a few fishes are swimming around his legs and he wonders if they were there all along. He draws some imaginary lines on her back with his fingertips, whispers her name and cups the nape of her neck. Eventually she loosens her legs from around his hips.

 

******

 

They have lost track of time, but the sun is still shining when they get out of the water. In the Caribbean, the sun sets quickly around 6 PM, year round.

 

"When are we heading back?"

"Not tonight. I was hoping you could build us a fire."

"Sure."

Mulder offers his hand to her, "Care to visit this humble island of ours beforehand?"

"Absolutely!" She answers, reaching for him.

 

Mulder grabs a towel and wraps it around her shoulders before taking her hand again. They walk closely together along the edge of the sea, swinging their hands between them, sometimes letting their feet slip behind to caress the incredibly soft and warm sand with their toes.

Islets in the Caribbean seas change shapes through the years, depending on swells, winds, streams and... tourists — well, except for this very islet.

 

"It's beautiful! How did you manage to get the place to ourselves?"

"Oh! I managed!" He says evasively. She looks at him questionably. "A few phone calls and some cash!" He adds. She looks at him skeptically, still not buying, and he laughs at her expression. "It's a national nature reserve, Scully, but since it's currently not the growth period, I managed to negotiate pretty good... Okay, I begged, and made a few phone calls and my contacts did the rest!"

"Have you visited it before?"

"Nope, just discovering it with you! But it's exactly what I had imagined it would be. And beyond!" They smile at each other and continue the walk.

 

Besides the outstanding view, the islet, paradisiacal place in the middle of the ocean, close and preserved thanks to the coral reef, offers exquisite underwater sights, accessible with just a pair of goggles. In the coral reefs lagoon, juvenile fishes thrive. Fish species here are black surgeon, colas, fin-tail cardinal. In deeper waters, one can glimpse bottlenose dolphins and humpback whales. It is quite small, around one to three hectares or so. The flora species are limited due to inadequate fresh water source, dry climate and low soil water holding capacity. But there are still various plants such as mapous, pear trees, and gum trees. In the coastal belt in sandy areas or in areas subject to frequent flooding, the vegetation types sums up to mangroves, sea grapes, and mancenilliers.

At one point, they come across a small carbet, small hut made of wood and metal sheets. No wider than three meters by three meters, the shelter hosts a large rectangular table in its center and a bench on each side. Sand, wind and water have not spared them. The furniture, faded and bleached, is scraped as if it has been gnawed by termites at some specific locations. On each of the four large square beams that support the red sheet roof, besides the many names and dates engraved in the wood, are large metal hooks for hammocks. A makeshift wall has been created between two beams with an old faded blueish green-colored shipyard canvas. Based on the shapes of some leaning trees, it is clear that the wall was placed on the most wind-exposed side. But despite the simplicity of the haven, there is something romantic in this shelter.

Mentally calculating the sun's height, the Michael Dundee way, Mulder estimates they have about an hour, maybe two, of sun before night, so he suggests setting up camp here. Rain showers are frequent and rather sudden and unpredictable in the Caribbean, and a roof at this point is almost a luxury. There is even an old fireplace and a few small trunks just next door.

 

Mulder turns to Scully and asks, "Why don't you stay here and try to start building a campfire while I go back and gather our stuffs?"

"Could the Indian guide run to the store and get me some matches?"

"Do I detect a hint of negativity, Scully?" Then, defeated, he smiles. "Good point! Well, make yourself at home, I'll be right back!"

 

He kisses her hand and walks away in a quick step.

 

******

 

Gradually, as the sun goes down and the temperature drops, singing frogs and locusts become increasingly audible. Scully is sitting on the towel facing the sea, legs stretched out on the sand, her chest tilted slightly back, resting on her arms outstretched behind her. Her eyes are closed and a smile hints at the corners of the lips; her breathing is deep and relaxed.

Behind her, a small pile of wood scientifically and religiously put together is ready to greet a match, a lighter, bullet's powder... Scratch that! Matches or lighter will do! Scully laughs at herself, remembering her last attempt at starting a fire without matches. It looks like the fire will have to wait. And remembering the words "natural reserve", she does not have a great desire to wander off to pick flowers or fruit either.

Fully relaxed, she finally opens her eyes at a lapping sound. She sees Mulder arrive, pulling the boat by the rope. The water is up just above his waist and he holds the rope over his shoulder, his hands clasped before him, clinging to the attachment like Christ carrying his cross.

 

"Need a hand there, Ahab?" She yells at him.

"Scully, are you coming on to me?"

"I would, but no actually you look like you could use a hand!" She says while getting up.

"You wound me, Scully!" He fakes annoyance for a second and keeps moving. "You gotta trust me on this! I know what I'm doi— Outch!"

"What's wrong?"

"I think I just stepped on a sea urchin! Damn it, that hurts!"

"Stay there!"

 

She strolls in the water to meet him. It is so clear and pure that it is rather easy to avoid the few black spots barely moving onto the white sand.

 

"There, see? How could you miss them?!"

"I was gazing at _you_."

 

Surrendering to the sweetness of his words, Scully lowers her shoulders and gives him a puppy smile, arching down her brows. Then she orders him out of the water, taking the rope from him, and telling him to watch his steps. He obeys, limping on the heel of his injured foot, and sits down on a bench under the shelter. He takes his foot inside his hands and gets a better look.

 

"I think there are still thorns in it!" He shouts back to Scully, rising his head towards the sea where she no longer is, and spinning it towards the beach. She is putting all of her little weight forward, balancing on the rope to pull the boat onto the sand.

"Just give me a minute! I'll be right there!" She shouts back, barely hiding her discomfort and how heavy this boat is to her. A smile forms on Mulder's face as he tries to understand how a tiny woman such as Scully is successfully managing to pull ashore the wooden boat. "There has to be a scientific explanation for this," he thinks as he laughs to himself.

A few minutes later, she is kneeling in front of him, looking at his foot. "Would you happen to be hiding tweezers in that boat of yours?"

"You're perfect, Scully, you don't need tweezers!" He teases.

 

She grins and wonders what is up with him today, what is with all the teasing and flirting. She smirks at him even as she feels blessed inside. It feels so good once in a while to be able not to worry, not to wonder if something bad is going to happen to either of them, not to think to all the bad events in their lives. She thinks back to all of the sweet moments they shared back when they were just work partners, although she admits that there was probably never such a thing, there was never a time where they were _just_ anything.

She lowers her head down his foot, very seductively, and begins kissing it. She targets the thorns and takes one out between her teeth. Mulder is in shock and at a loss for words. "What the—?" She looks back at him, feeling very naughty and shushes him with a "Stay still, my heart!" Then she lowers her head again and pulls every thorn out the same way until there is no more. Then, like nothing had just happened, she gets up and cheerfully says, "Good as new!" Mulder shakes his head in disbelief. God, he loves this woman!

 

******

 

The fire is crackling and burning, and the fishes are being grilled on sticks that have been stuck between rocks. They have hung a lantern and a double size hammock in the cabin. Sitting on a towel between the shelter and the fire, they are dressed now: a pair of long shorts and a tee shirt for him, and a pair of shorts and a long-sleeve tunic for her. He is sitting behind her as she is settled between his bended legs. She rests her head against his shoulder and his head is close to hers as they read _'Moby Dick'_.

 

" _'I know not all that may be coming, but be it what it will, I'll go to it laughing.'_ This is you, Mulder!" She quotes a sentence aloud and grins up at him.

"I don't know... Sounds more like you actually." He plants a soft kiss on her cheek. She thinks about that for a moment. It is a bit of the two of them, in fact. Two halves. "Hey, you know what they say about couples who read together?" He asks suddenly.

 

She nods and smiles. Mulder stands up to go check on their meal. He retrieves the fish from the sticks and sets them on large banana leaves.

 

"This is as good as it gets!" He says, handing one share to her.

"Oh, don't underestimate yourself, honey!" She replies with a smile, taking the fish he offers.

 

He goes back to sit by her side, holding his own food. Scully is quiet for a few minutes, eating small pieces of fish slowly from her fingers. He watches her while she eats, her face fully intent on her task.

 

"What are you thinking about?" He wonders.

"Why haven't we done this before?"

"What? Grilled fish?"

"No, this!" She gestures around herself. "The island, the peace and quiet, the 'just the two of us'... without the 'against the rest of the world'?"

"Oh! Well, I guess it wouldn't be this enjoyable if we were to do it every once in a while."

"BS, Mulder! I would definitely get used to it and enjoy every bit of it as often as we'd do it. And so would you... I mean, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, yes! I've seen worse places."

"This is so peaceful! It feels like this place lost track of time. And, ..." she gives him a wary look, "it has _nothing_ to do with losing nine minutes!" That makes him smile. She looks up at the stars. "Only one little one missing out here." She whispers to herself.

 

But he has heard her. And he feels it too, the familiar sadness that is always underneath the surface. For six years, since he escaped with her from his military prison hell, he has been wondering what they could do about it. He has been constantly frustrated by wanting to find their son, wanting to at least search for him. The knowledge that William is out there, somewhere, and yet they do nothing about it kills him. But he tries to force his mind to come back to the islet. This is where he is now. This is where they are. And he cannot allow himself to dwell on this. He knows this too well. He knows the strength it takes to be strong for her. And she is here, right here by his side. As difficult and frustrating as it is, he _has_ to keep his mind focused on Scully. Only Scully. Only the two of them. No darkness welcome here.

He lays his hand on the small of her back and caresses her lovingly. Then he stands up, leaning down to give her a hand up "You know what?" he says and wanders over to the boat. She peers at him. He comes back to her, once again hiding something in his back.

 

"Tada!" He reveals, showing a laptop.

"Amazing!"

 

She cannot help but smile and wonder what other surprises he has yet planted in this small boat. He sets the laptop on the table behind her and slides the CD into it.

The music _'Walking in Memphis'_ starts playing. Mulder takes the leaf with her fish out of Scully's hands and places it next to the laptop. Then, he walks back in front of her. She is smiling. He extends his arm to her and she takes his hand, being careful not to touch him with the fingers she was just using as a fork. He squeezes her hand and pulls her to him. He could not care less about a few sticky fingers. He takes them in his mouth one at a time to clean them off, keeping his eyes locked on hers the whole time. Both of them keep a hand on the small of the other's back.

Mulder initiates the kiss, a very soft kiss, tonguing the bottom of her lips. She gently raises the hem of this shirt and caresses the skin of his lower back, sliding down under the waistband of his shorts to touch his buttocks with a tender but firm hand. He releases her fingers and cups her face with both hands, running a finger across her cheek. Their tongues find each other's mouths in an unhurried pace. Mulder moves his hands up underneath her shirt and unties the strings of her bikini, and slides his hands from her back to the front of her breasts, caressing her ribcage along the way, while Scully descends her other hand inside his shorts and squeezes his bottom to pull him closer to her pelvic bone.

The music stops. Mulder breaks the kiss and asks "Replay?" But she rapidly pulls her hands from his butt to grab his head and pull his face down towards hers again. "Shut up, Mulder!" She murmurs. He raises his eyebrows in surprise.

She steps back as he leans toward her, and, not breaking from the kiss, crouches down backward to sit on the towel, Mulder holding her back so they do not fall. They sit facing each other, legs and tongues entwined. He clenches his fists and places them on each side of her, on the towel, holding her captive, and moves toward her more, pressing her to lay on her back. She grabs the edge of his shirt and helps him take it off and then arches her back to remove her shirt and bra so she can feel his chest against hers. As she lays half naked in front of him, he stares at her. She shyly smiles at him, setting both her hands on his torso, caressing his skin down to his stomach, while he dives his head into the valley of her generous breasts. While he is still above her, holding his weight on his closed fists, she bends her knees to close the distance between their waists.

Later on that night, after having taken a brief shower with unsalted water Mulder has taken from the rowboat, they fall asleep in the hammock, Mulder's arm pillowing Scully's head, and her hand flat on his chest. 

 

******


	2. WHEN DARKNESS FINDS YOU

CHAPTER 2. WHEN DARKNESS FINDS YOU  
NOVEMBER 2008

 

Mulder is sitting on the ground in a dark room, his back against the wall. As he looks up, he says: "I'm a guilty man. I've failed in every respect. I deserve the harshest punishment for my crimes."

Scully sits on the edge of the tub in her bathroom. "What are you talking?" She asks gently. "What would these crimes be?"

"All of them? I don't even know where to begin."

"You have committed none, Mulder."

"Okat, then why don't we begin with how I abandoned you when William was just born?"

"What—? No, Mulder. You didn't abandon us. Don't you ever think of it that way! Don't you dare put that on you when I'm the one who forced you to leave."

"I should have fought you," he replies. She kneels in front of him, placing her hands on his shoulders as he continues to cry. "I should never have left..." He bends his head between his knees. "I'm so sorry, Scully, I miss him so badly. I just want to get him back. I'm so sorry that you can't have him with you and cuddle him and look after him and...."

Scully leans forward and grasps the nape of his neck, and realizes that he has a fever. "Mulder, you're burning up! Get up." She says gently, grabbing his elbow to help him stand.

"You have every right to be mad at me, and you should," he continues, "Why would you keep me here and hide me when you should bust me outta here?! Why can't you be angry?!"

"Mulder, calm down. You're not yourself right now..."

"No, Scully! Let go of me! Why did you give him up? Why, Scully! You wanted a child more than anything in the wo—!"

"Stop it!"

"Where is he, Scully? Who did you give him to? Let me go!" Trying to break free from her, he suddenly throws his arms back and, with a wave of a hand, he sends everything placed on the edge of the sink flying. Yet, nothing falls to the floor. Instead, they levitate in the air and begin spinning above their heads.

Mulder is weakened by the sight, and he starts shaking as they both stare at the toiletries above them. Mulder closes his eyes and puts his hand on his forehand, his head sinking down like it suddenly weighs a ton. Scully looks back at him with concern and urges him to sit back down on the edge of the tub. She gives back a quick glance above her head then runs one of her hands under his armpit so that he does not fall and reaches for the faucet with the other hand. But before she can turn on the water, he collapses on her. She loses balance, falls backwards and finds herself stuck under his inert body.

 

******

 

Mulder wakes in shock, breathing hard, and sits straight up. The abrupt movement wakes Scully as the hammock swings back and forth.

 

"Mulder, what is it?" She asks as he looks around him with fear.

 

When he realizes where he is, his breathing eases and he looks back at Scully, he then puts his arm over her shoulder and pulls her to him. He embraces her with both arms and kisses the top of her head. He tells her it was nothing, that he just had a bad dream.

They lie back down and settle themselves in their original positions. The hammock is still gently swinging. The night is very dark, no moon. No stars either anymore; the sky has become cloudy. The fire has died. The air is still humid and warm despite a little breeze. And bugs are still singing aloud in the night.

 

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asks him, entwining her fingers with his on his torso.

"I'm fine," he answers, kissing her forehead.

"You don't look fine, Mulder, you're shaking..."

 

He really does _not_ want to talk about it. It has been such a good day and he does not want to ruin it by talking about his nightmare. Let's keep it that way!

 

"I'll be fine. Let's go back to sleep."

 

Scully closes her eyes. But he is restless, staring at the ceiling. He wonders about his dream and what it actually means. Of course he misses William. He misses his son more than he likes to think about, more than he has ever told her. He cannot talk to her about it, not when he knows it would sadden her even more than she already is. He sighs. He has had nightmares about William before, more times than he cares to recall, unfortunately. But this? Never. He would know. What did it mean? What does telekinesis power have to do with him? Or does it have to do with Scully? But even if it were her? How? Why? He turns his head to look at her and sees that she is not sleeping either; her worried eyes are on him.

 

"Talk to me," she whispers with the sweetest voice. "What's wrong, Mulder?"

"I'm sorry, Scully, I ca—" he swallows hard and tightens his jaw, avoiding her eyes.

"It was about William, wasn't it?" She asks. It is not a question. He turns his face to her once again. Her blue eyes are searching his earnestly. His dark eyes are trying to shade the pain of the dream, the pain of his grief, but not succeeding. It is like he is a book that has fallen open, giving her all the answers she needs.

 

"You've said his name a few times over the years during your sleep," she explains.

"I'm sorry, Scully."

"For what?" She genuinely wonders. "I've never said you shouldn't talk about him and what happened. It seems to be eating you alive. You can't keep that to yourself." She pauses. "You don't have to."

"I'm okay."

"You are everything _but_ okay, Mulder."

"I'm—"

 

He is speechless, that is what he is. How can he tell Scully what he feels? How disgusted he is of himself and how much of a failure he thinks he is? After his sister? After his son? After Scully's abduction? After her cancer? Jeez, what he has put her through... He feels at once both blessed and guilty that she loves him so much. And sometimes he wonders if she would not be better off without him. But every time he thinks he should tell her this, all he can see in her eyes is how devastated she would be if he were not here with her. "We are so fucking cursed!" He thinks to himself. It is not like he did not warn her though. He remembers his exact words: "You should get as far away from me as you can!" He had said. But instead, she had taken his hand and had squeezed it. She is everything to him and he is everything to her. It would be beautiful if it were not so damn tragic. If they were not so damn broken.

They hear thunder and then, within a matter of seconds, lightning flashes in the distance.

 

"I had no clue," she says.

"Of what?"

"That you missed him so much."

"Well..." He says not willing to elaborate.

"But you know what?" She comes closer to him, her chest atop of his, her small hands still in his, resting on his torso. "I keep faith that eventually we will meet with him again. But... it was me, Mulder. _I_ gave him up. Not you... So, I am willing to hear your sorrows, Mulder, but if that is guilt that I see in these eyes, in these beautiful eyes, I want you to stop. Now. Because no matter how you try to blame yourself, no matter how hard you try to punish yourself, it is in vain. It doesn't help you, nor me, nor us. All it will do is eat you alive. And then there will be nothing that I can do, and either you are going to push me away, or I will walk away before I get consumed in this along with you." She says these words matter-of-factly, but her face is open and full of hope. He knows that she expects him to make the right choice. "Because the truth is, Mulder..."

 

Another crash of thunder interrupts her. This one seems louder and the lightning is right on its heels. For a short period of time, their faces are illuminated; their eyes are wet. As the first drops of rain begin to fall, she continues in a whisper.

 

"The truth is, Mulder, I need you more than I can say. I try everything I can to never have to depend on anyone. But you..."

 

He shuts her mouth with a kiss and seizes her head with both hands. Was it possible, really? To feel intensely loved yet love more fiercely in return? To have a need for another more than the need to breathe? Every word that comes to his mind to describe his devotion for this woman falls short, as it always does. Love, friendship, trust, respect — all of the ways that they have ever thought to describe their union fall away as he pours himself into kissing Scully. They just _need_ to be together to be thorough; every other time when they are apart, a piece of them is missing.

After a few moments, the thunder subsides and so does the air of urgency in their kiss. Mulder pulls her head back and looks at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

 

"You're my one in five billion!" He murmurs. She smiles and replies, "And you are mine."

"So I guess we're stuck with each other!" He teases gently. Mulder pulls her to him, enveloping her fully in his strong arms. As she settles against him, he marvels at how a simple hug can still feel so intimate. It has always been that way with them — a touch of a hand or a kiss on the forehead had always centered and connected them. And then later in their partnership, when they had begun making love, it had only served to strengthen the unspoken bond that had always been there. And, of course, it is undeniable that the sex they have is both exciting and gratifying. But, he muses to himself, a warm hug like the one they are sharing now is just as powerful.

 

As rain continues to fall, drops hitting the metal roof in a rhythmic song, Scully shivers. Mulder bends his head to the side inquisitively.

 

"Just a bit cold, that's all," she answers.

"I was told once that the best way to regenerate body heat is to crawl naked into a sleeping bag with somebody else who was already naked." He grins at her, eyebrows arched and waiting for a response.

She smiles back. "What? You're wondering if I remember?"

"Do you?"

"Why, of course I do, Mulder! Who would forget such a romantic night out in the woods?"

He gives a quick laugh. "Do you remember what you replied to me?"

She thinks for a moment and he keeps looking at her, wondering. "No, actually, I don't think I do!" She grimaces, narrows her eyes, a bit worried. "Was I... mean?"

He chuckles, gives her a brief kiss and says, "No! No, you weren't _mean_! You said: 'Maybe if it rains sleeping bags you'll get lucky.'"

"Pretty witty response, if I do say so myself." He chuckles again, then she turns her face up towards him and offers a heartfelt other answer, "Thanks for not giving up on me!"

"You're very welcome."

She brushes his lips with her thumb. "You should smile more often. You're so beautiful when you smile." He widens his mouth to an extra-large smile. She laughs. "So, Mulder? Are we good? Are you sleepy at all now?"

"Yes, we're good... Good night, Scully."

"Good night, Mulder."

 

******


	3. COME HELL OR HIGHWATER

CHAPTER 3. COME HELL OR HIGHWATER  
OCTOBER 2009

 

Almost a year has passed since their brief Caribbean getaway.

Scully has gone back to work at the hospital while Mulder has begun working on a book. Some days they have been happy, other days life has been unbearable. Scully has been doing her best to move on with her life. Seven years have passed since she made the decision to share her fate with Mulder. But Mulder's nightmares have persisted. They both have been through a variety of emotions, including guilt and regret, which has affected their relationship as well as their relationships to others. They have been through various phases of grief: shock and denial, sorrow and depression, anger, but they have yet to reach to the final point of acceptance.

Scully sits on a bench just outside Our Lady of Sorrows hospital, warming her hands on a mug of hot tea. She is thinking of William, as she often does in the quiet moments of her day. Too often, she now admits to herself.

William is eight years old now, wherever he is, and although she may always wonder if he is okay and if she truly made the right decision, she also knows it is time to let go. She desperately wants to move forward with her life; she needs to stop letting these ghosts haunt her every waking moment. It has been long enough.

She is still lost in thought when her phone rings.

 

"Dr. Scully."

"Hey Scully, it's me. Still picking you up?"

"Where are you, Mulder? I'm waiting for you."

"On my way!"

 

She looks at her watch and gets up, heading back to the building behind her. In the rest room, she cleans up her mug, puts it down to dry with the others and goes back to wait for Mulder outside the lobby.

 

******

 

Mulder places a hand between Scully's shoulder blades as they enter the small psychoanalyst's office, that carpeted-and-couched safe home to so many tearful self-explorations. There is no open door policy, no welcoming of others, beyond the internal objects of their own imagination, only fantasy figures are welcomed.

The office of Shad Edgar is no different from any other shrink's. A large three-seater brown leather sofa is set against one of the three ocher wallpapered walls. A large bay window encompasses the fourth wall and fills the room with a soft autumn light. For the remaining furniture, there is a small coffee table with delicately carved feet on which there sits a box of tissues, an armchair matching the couch, and a wooden desk. In terms of decoration, two succulent plants on each side of the sofa attempt to liven up the otherwise dull room.

Scully and Mulder remove their coats and sit close to each other on the sofa upon Shad's invitation.

 

"Thank you for meeting us again," Scully starts.

"Of course. I hope I can help. How have you both been feeling since last month?"

"On a regular basis, we've been okay," she looks at Mulder and he nods in agreement.

"Have you had more nightmares, Mr. Mulder?"

"A few."

"Would you like to tell me about them?" 

 

He _would not_ actually! But he looks at Scully and her eyes plead with him to do it anyway. He sighs.

 

"It's like the last time when met, really. They're almost always the same. I'm with Scully and William. He's still a baby. We're home. And everything turns to dark. There is another Me in front of us, as if I were looking at me in a mirror, and this Me is right there with us. Objects begin spinning in circles above our heads. We look up. William is crying. And the other Me takes William from Scully. And I don't do a thing about it. I just stay still whereas Scully runs after them. That's... pretty much it!" He looks back at her, feeling defeated.

"How does this make you feel?" Shad asks.

"Well, you know what they say... Dreams are considered to be the royal road to the unconscious, that some of the repressed material comes through to awareness, albeit in distorted form. So I bet you can guess how I feel about being the one taking William away."

"Dreams serve as valuable clues to how the _unconscious mind_ operates, Mulder," Scully says. "It only means that your _unconscious_ wants you to _feel_ guilty, in no way does it mean that you actually are." She says carefully.

"I've often felt that dreams are answers to questions we haven't yet figured out how to ask," Mulder replies.

"What is the question, Mulder?"

"I can't figure it out."

"You once told me that you had to be willing to see." He nods. "Then why won't you let me show you that there's a way out of the dark tunnel?"

"I wish it were that simple, Scully. I really do. And I try! But I don't see that switch just yet."

 

Shad Edgar nods and remains silent as they speak, trying not to interfere. But as Mulder is not particularly participative, he tries something different.

 

"I'm not usually a talking kind of doctor but we don't seem to be improving much. Are you aware of the moral factor?" As they shake heads, he continues. "The moral factor is finding its satisfaction in the illness and refusing to give up the punishment of suffering. But as far as the patient is concerned, this sense of guilt is silent: it doesn't tell him he's guilty, and he doesn't feel guilty, he feels ill. At the center of the sickness of the psyche is a sickness of the spirit."

"Except for the fact I do feel guilty," Mulder admits.

"That is my point. And so you deliberately choose the punishment of suffering."

Scully intervenes, staring at Mulder, "Guilt is a cognitive experience that occurs when someone realizes — in your case, believes, inaccurately — that they compromised their own standards of conduct and bear significant responsibility for that violation. I told you before, your dreams do not reflect what happened."

"Then it's not guilt!" He grants.

"Then what? Remorse?" He shakes his head no. "We can work with remorse."

"I don't — I mean, yeah, maybe there's remorse, but it's stronger than that."

"Fear? Anger?" She asks. He stays silent and looks ahead at Shad, not showing the slightest emotion. She brushes his arm with her hand, begging him to face her. And when he eventually turns, she lowers her voice. "Anger? Anger at what? At whom? ... Me?"

"Scully, you know I love you."

"That's incidental to the conversation."

"Not when it comes to us!"

"Then please explain what's going on with you, Mulder." She looks him in the eye. "I just want to help you, but I can't do anything when you won't let me in. Why do you always have to be the one to solve everybody else's shit and carry all the guilt or fear or whatever the hell this is?" She waits for him to say something, waits a little moment, but Mulder remains silent. She raises her voice. "You know, it feels to me that we're fucking dying here, Mulder!" She stands and points a finger at him. "You always say that we are so good at communication, but we can't ever talk about what you're feeling. We are not talking! We are not fucking! Nothing is happening!" Her voice breaks. "I'm sick of this."

 

He stands and takes her in his embrace. She hides her face in her own hands against Mulder's chest, both of them feeling exhausted. "I'm sorry" is all he can genuinely say.

After a minute, Scully leans over and picks a tissue from the box.

 

"You know, unfortunately, birth parents are unlikely to ever forget the child they placed for adoption." She says and, then, locking eye contact with him, "You need to try to get yourself together..." He does not agree nor disagree, so she asks, "Can you?"

 

Mulder has never lied to her. And he does not want to hurt her, never have. But he does not know if _he can_. This step seems like climbing Everest. He massages her shoulders softly.

 

"Would you like to tell me about William, Mr. Mulder?" Shad offers an escape.

"No."

"Would you say... Is there a part of you that fears repeating the loss?" The doctor asks.

 

Scully sits back down while Mulder, feeling completely lost, remains standing. He watches her as she settles on the couch without looking at him and then turns his attention back to Shad. He thinks for a moment and shakes his head no.

 

"You're in denial, Mulder," Scully snaps at him.

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are. And it bothers me because denial is only one of the earlier stages of the loss process, even though it's been seven years. You looked for Samantha... Twenty-five years, Mulder! I can't—" She grabs her coat, stands abruptly, and crosses rapidly to the door. Mulder tries to grab her hand but misses it, "Scully, wait!" Shad stands up as well.

"I'll be waiting for you outside. Goodbye Dr. Edgar!" She slams the door.

Mulder is about to follow her out when Shad puts a hand on his forearm. "Some birth parents have trouble maintaining their relationship. This may be due to lingering feelings of loss and guilt, or it may be due to a fear of repeating the loss."

"You keep talking about repeating the loss. How could loss be repeating? I don't get your point."

"The fear of losing her too."

 

He wants to say that this is never going to happen because there is too much love between them. What they have is beyond love, way beyond. He will never let this happen. But even as he automatically thinks this, there is a part of him deep inside that knows Dr. Edgar has a point, as does Scully. He has to come to some kind of a closure for his own sake. For their own sake. He picks up his jacket on the armrest of the sofa and shakes Shad's hand goodbye.

Mulder exits the little house office and walks over to where he meets Scully's gaze. She is leaning against the car, arms crossed over her chest. He approaches her with a mixture of feelings: shame, sadness and shyness.

 

"I won't take twenty-five years."

"I hope not," she sniffs.

"You've always been the strong one." He folds her into his arms and she does not try to retreat. "Thank you for taking care of me," he says.

 

He lays his chin on the top of her hair, cradles the back of her head with one hand, and closes his eyes, more than a little relieved and swallowing hard. A passage he had read some years back suddenly comes to his mind and he murmurs it into Scully's hair.

 

"Do not fall in love with a woman who reads, a woman who feels too much, a woman who writes... Do not fall in love with a grown woman, a magician, a delusional, a crazy one. Do not fall for a woman who thinks, who knows what she knows and also knows how to fly. Do not fall for a woman sure of herself. Do not fall in love with a woman who laughs or cries while making love, who knows how to turn her spirit into flesh. Let alone one who loves poetry (these are the most dangerous), or who lingers half an hour to set a painting onto a wall, or who does not know how to live without music. Do not fall for a woman who is interested in politics, who is rebellious and feels dizzy before the immense horror of injustice. A woman who loves football and baseball games, but absolutely does not like watching TV. Nor a woman who is beautiful regardless of the features or characteristics of her body. Do not fall in love with an intense, fun, lucid and irreverent woman. You do not want to fall in love with such a woman. For if by chance you fall in love with her, whether she remains or not by your side, whether she loves you or not, from her, from such a woman, there is no coming back."

 

When she looks up at him, her eyes are wet with unshed tears, with unspoken emotion, and he seizes her face in both hands.

 

"Love the man and the man will move mountains to make this such woman happy. Hurt the man and the man will drop those mountains over her head."

"That's very moving," she chortles.

"I made the last part up!"

"Who is it from?"

"A clever woman named Martha Rivera-Garrido."

"A woman? I would never have guessed!"

"Yeah, me neither. You hungry?" She nods. "Come on, I'll buy you diner," he says while opening the door to the passenger seat.

 

******

 

The waiter approaches their table and asks them if they would like some coffee. Mulder thanks him but asks for the bill. Scully reaches for his hand.

 

"It doesn't mean that you're crazy, Mulder." He nods, resigned. "I just want you to consider the option. Please? Medication will only help you sleep as well as reduce your anxiety."

"Okay."

 

The waiter comes back with the bill and Mulder hands him his credit card.

 

"Just think about it, okay? I just want you to keep an open mind on this. I really believe this would help."

"You're the doc, Scully. If you say I should, I'll do it."

"Thank you."

"But then you have to do something for me. Can we please stop seeing again Doctor _Shmad_? He's right; it's not helping."

Scully leaves the bill on the table, stands up and tells him, "Yes. C'mon, let's go home."

 

******

 

On the porch of their house, Mulder holds the door open for Scully and then follows her inside. As she begins to remove her coat, he helps her from behind and she thanks him.

 

"You tired?" He asks.

"No, not really," she answers as she lets herself fall onto the couch. "Long day though."

"Yeah," he says as he sits beside her, bending one knee and passing it behind her back so that he can sit be behind her. He begins massaging her tensed shoulders, and she relaxes and bends her head forward as he pushes her hair aside and rubs his thumbs along her neck. Suddenly he stands up. "Lie down, you're all tensed. I'm gonna do a proper massage."

"Mmm, that would be great, thank you," she says, removing her shirt and lying down on her stomach, her hands under her chin. Meanwhile, Mulder walks into the bathroom, looking for oil.

 

He straddles her, resting lightly on her buttocks, and rubs his hands to warm them up. He pours some lotion into the palms of his hands and gently spreads the oil on her lower back, stroking her skin in small circles. He unhooks her bra and sensually moves up along her spine. Scully relaxes, closes her eyes and lays her head down, resting one cheek on top of her hands. Mulder's hands on her back, as she visualizes them, seem disproportionately large. His palms are hot and the pressure is perfect to undo all the little knots of tension accumulated during the day. His wrists are bonded to each other, centered just above her spine and the ends of his fingers gently caresses the edges of her ribcage. He applies even pressure from her hips to her upper back, and then lingers at the top of her neck, rubbing gently with his thumbs. Then again, he traces the same trail all the other way down, sometimes straying from the path at her chest or hips.

Mulder shifts his weight down to back of her thighs so he can remove her suit pants. While she helps by raising her hips, moving nothing but her waist from her relaxed position, he leans forward and gently slides his hands down and around her buttocks to the front button and zipper. He loosens them and smoothly pulls down her pants. While applying a little more oil on his hands, he takes a moment to contemplate her black lace panties that slipped down a little along with the pants, revealing the beginning of rounded flesh. He feels pleasure build in his crotch when he reapplies his hands on her delicate skin and resumes massaging slowly toward her ass. As his hands move in circles ever lower, Scully lets out a soft groan. Mulder gets up and gently removes her heels, nylon socks and the rest of her pants. He massages her feet for a moment, takes her ankles fully in his hands, and his knuckles and the backs of his fingertips brush mildly against her calves and thighs, up to her buttocks.

 

At the gentle tickling feeling, Scully turns around on one elbow and looks at him. He is crouched next to the sofa. He smiles and asks, "Does it feel good?"

Scully notices the erection pushing against his pants and rises to sit. She gently grabs his belt and replies, "Very."

 

She pulls him to her side, and while she works on undoing his belt and opening the button of his pants, he removes her bra. She unzips his fly and moves his boxers aside to release his straining cock. Her delicate hand grabs the already thick shaft and then she bends to lick the head, pulling him to her by grabbing his buttocks with her other hand. Mulder, who had begun to fondle her chest, stops and straightens. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, letting his head fall back as he groans.

Scully takes his penis fully in her mouth, and moves up to the glans. Her tongue flirts and draws its edges, and then she clips the tip of it between her lips.

 

"Oh! Kill me now!" He breathes.

 

Without haste, she continues, at times using her hands to stroke him; at others caressing his buttocks under his pants that eventually slip down his legs. Involuntarily, at moments, Mulder arches his waist, pushing himself deeper inside Scully's mouth.

Then he leans forward and bends down to caress and kiss her breasts. He pinches her erect nipples. After a moment, he removes his shoes, pressing the heel of one with the tip of the other, and slides his pants down by small movements as if swimming the crawl. He gently takes Scully's head in his hands and kisses the hollow of her neck, under her chin, under her ear, then on her cheek to finally get to her lips that he gently sucks between his teeth.

While continuing to kiss her, he removes his boxers and kneels between her legs on the couch. She spreads her legs to make room for him, bending and raising her knees. Mulder puts a hand behind her head and one on the couch to sustain his weight, skimming her hip, and he gently pushes her backward. As she lies on her back, his hand smoothes her hair, then snakes along her neck, to the joint of her collarbones, down to her breasts, her belly, and finally to the hot inside of her thighs. With three fingers, he glides his hand against her wetness, and eventually he penetrates her with a finger, then two.

 

"Oh, kill me too!" She gasps, hands behind her head, arching her pelvis.

 

He smiles and moves up to meet her with a kiss, continuing to stroke her slowly. She frees her hands and caresses his hair for a moment before lowering her hands on his shoulders, down his back, and she straightens slightly to grab his buttocks and press his body to her groin, spreading her legs more. She takes his penis and guides it into her. Penetration is slow at first. The kiss ceases and they both watch each other intently. Mulder places his hand on the couch to steady his posture and gently accelerates the pace. She spreads her legs once more and raises her knees completely, and then she lays her hands on the small of his back, stroking his ass. They both close their eyes at once.

While remaining inside her, he slips his hands behind her back and pulls her closer so she can straddle him, and he slides his legs to the floor, his back resting against the couch cushions. Thus settled, he takes her breasts with both hands, moving his mouth over her nipples with pleasure, as she lays her hands on his shoulders and moves up and down along his erection. After a moment, she grabs his knees and arches. Mulder bends forward to not lose contact with her breasts, and he places his hands under her buttocks to help. While he mimics her brisk movements, he feels her vagina tighten around him. He takes the initiative and thrusts more rapidly as well. She moans with pleasure and relaxes. Half a minute later, Mulder moans and passes his arms behind her back to hug her and hold her against him, skin to skin. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and rests her chin atop of his head. She smiles; the situation is usually reversed. But their height difference has never been a problem.

 

"That! Is _the_ best massage I've had! Ever!"

 

He looks up to her, smiles and gives a quick kiss on her breasts before resting his head again.  
Eventually, they lie back down on the sofa, still naked. She is on her side, facing the coffee table; he is cradling her, one hand on her flat stomach.

 

"You're the most incredible woman I've ever known. You are _always_ gonna be the most incredible woman I have ever known. My non-coming-back-from woman. I feel so, so, so, so undeservedly lucky!"

She turns her head back to him. "Don't say that!"

"Scully, I never asked, because I didn't know if it meant anything to you. And I don't know that it would change many things between us, and my parents didn't exactly show me what a big deal it was, but... will you marry me?"

She turns to lay on her other side, to face him. "Do you want to?"

"I'm asking you. I don't know if this is something you want, or need?"

"You're taking me by surprise. I guess you're right, it wouldn't change our way around..."

"But do you want it?"

"I'm not sure. What do you want?"

"I want what you want. I want you to be happy."

"I am happy, Mulder."

"Nah you're not! Not entirely."

"Yes. With you, with _this_ you, I am. I need more of this you! With the _other_ you... it's more complicated, it's hurting... because I love you so much."

"I love you too! And we actually have to make another word up! Because when I say 'I love you', it feels like I'm saying 'I like you'!"

 

Mulder takes Scully's face between his hands and closes his eyes to kiss her. Their tongues roll one way, then the other way. Sometimes, it seems to him that his love is so intense that it is hurting. He gasps for air, retreats from the kiss, opens his eyes and leaves his hands on her cheeks.

 

"You did ask me once before though!" She says enigmatically.

"Asked you what?"

"To marry you!"

"I did? I think I'd remember, Scully! Was I... drunk?" He asks with a little bit of fear.

"No, you weren't!" She laughs, then remembers, smiling, "God! It feels like forever ago! I was talking to you over the phone about black arts, cards, charms, shamanism, divination, and so on... And... you asked! It really came out of nowhere."

"Jeez! You're right! You were supposedly on a vacation. Scully, 'black arts, cards, charms, shamanism, divination' was like talking dirty! So out of nowhere really...!" He laughs. "I can't believe you remember this!" He pauses for a moment. "So, what do you say? Spend the rest of your life with this fool and this fool will spend the rest of his life making sure you don't regret it. For better or for worse? In sickness and in health?"

"Sickness and health, isn't that what we've been doing for the last sixteen years, Mulder?"

"That's true. We can still focus on the 'love and cherish till death do us part' or the 'I thee worship' parts though!"

 

She does not answer but she does roll onto him to kiss him.

 

******


	4. UNTIL DEATH DO US PART

CHAPTER 4. UNTIL DEATH DO US PART  
MARCH 2010

 

Scully is helping her mother in the kitchen while Mulder is talking over the phone outside the house.

 

"He's consulting on a case, Mom."

"I think that's good. Isn't it?"

"I hope so. He's still having a hard time grieving William."

"I bet it's a sense of ambiguous loss. It's not like grieving for someone who has passed. Do you have a ritual or a ceremony to remember of him?"

"You mean like a funeral?"

"Something equivalent, in a way, yes. An action, a date, something to acknowledge the loss and then the grief as a normal process..."

"I don't know, Mom..."

"It was just an idea..."

 

Mulder pops in and wraps gently his arms around Scully's belly. "Something smells really good, ladies!"

 

"Dana tells me you work on a case, Fox? Is everything going as it should?"

"Yeah, well, they just call me now and then to consult me. I'm not really on the case."

"Well, I think it's a good thing, even if you're not as involved as I guess you'd like to be. And how is your book going?"

"It's coming along. It's gonna take longer than I thought — or hoped! — though; I find it hard to categorize all that we'd been worked on for a decade."

"I'm sure you'll do just fine, Fox! Here, why don't you take the plates and set the table."

"Sure."

 

He takes the plates while Margaret opens a drawer to retrieve the cutlery. Scully grabs three goblets. Mulder reenters the kitchen and Margaret hands him the cutlery and follows him to the dining room. Meanwhile, Scully traps a bottle of wine between her legs, opens it with a corkscrew and yells at her mother, "Will you have wine, Mom?" Margaret yells back yes.

 

When Mulder comes back, Scully is pouring wine into the glasses. He raises an eyebrow and walks to her, "Three glasses?"

She hands him one glass, "Every once in a while, it won't arm you. It's not such a strong medication."

"Is that so? Why didn't you say so before?"

They raise their glasses and clink them. Scully is wearing an engagement ring.

 

"Shouldn't we want for your mother?" Mulder whispers.

"He's right, honey! Let's go and toast while we eat!" Margaret says as she comes back in.

Scully guffaws and drops her forehead on Mulder's chest. He cuddles her hair and the three of them head to the dining room.

 

******

 

"So when is it?" Margaret asks, staring at the ring.

"I didn't say yes." She smiles.

"She agreed on a ring, but she's having second thoughts on a wedding!"

She smiles at him. "I am not. It's not like that! I'm not sure that there's really a point!"

"Why not?" The catholic mother asks.

"Because it's all the same. What difference does it make? We are already committed to one another, and we have been for so long now..."

 

While Scully tries to explain commitment to her mother, Mulder remembers a conversation he once had with Scully.

 

"Dana? If... early in the four years we've been working together... an event occurred that suggested... or somebody told you that we'd been friends together... in other lifetimes. Always. Would it have changed some of the ways we looked at one another?"

"Even if I knew for certain, I wouldn't change a day... Well... maybe that flukeman thing. I could have lived without that just fine," she had answered.

 

He laughs reminding that last part. Scully and her mother stare at him at once.

 

"What's so funny?" Scully asks.

"Nothing! I—" He smiles again. "Oh no! I wasn't laughing 'cause of what you just— Never mind! Please, continue!"

"Sure. Fine. Whatever."

"Well, children! Whenever you are ready, you just tell me! I want to be the first to know. And whatever you may decide, I just want you to know, Fox, that you already are a son to me."

"See! Not really a point!" Scully grins.

"Sure. Fine. Whatever." He squirms.

 

******


	5. UNTIL PAIN DO US PART

CHAPTER 5. UNTIL PAIN DO US PART  
AUGUST 2010

 

Scully enters the house just after nightfall and puts her small briefcase down by the door. She goes to his office. Mulder is sleeping, his glasses half twisted under his head laid down on his desk and a hand atop of an opened book. She gently removes his glasses and fondles his hair, but he barely moves.

 

******

 

Mulder picks up Emily from her bed. The little five-year old is limp and unresponsive. He shoves a hand behind the nape of her neck to steady her head.

 

******

 

It is night when he bursts through the ER doors, yelling "I need a doctor, she's burning up!", still protectively holding Emily in his arms. A nurse runs toward them.

 

"Come with me! How long has she had a fever?"

"I don't know! She was sleeping!"

 

He follows the nurse into the examination room and lays Emily carefully down on the bed. But as he reaches down to smooth her forehead, he sees that Emily is no longer lying there at all. It is a boy's face that he is now touching. William.

 

******

 

Mulder wakes up in horror, sweating and checking his surroundings. He is still at his desk, but his office is now completely dark. He gets up and walks toward the bedroom. Scully is asleep. He kneels by her side and begins sobbing. He lays his head there, by her hands, for a minute before getting up again, wiping his eyes with the palms of his hands. He walks back outside the room, takes his jacket and leaves the house.

 

******

 

Scully startles awake when her phone starts ringing. Still groggy, she feels around, brushing her arm over Mulder's cold empty side. Then she picks up her phone.

 

"Dr. Scully... Yes, I am... He did what?? ... Where? ... Okay, I'm on my way."

 

She sits up on the edge of the bed, moving her wild hair away from her face, and grabbing her clock. 4:14AM. She sighs with resignation and heads to the bathroom.

 

******

 

Scully yawns behind the steering wheel. A street map is unfolded on the passenger seat. Her eyes are sliding between the map and the road signs. Sometimes she has to lower her head under the windshield to read the streets' names signs.

At one point, as she presses her thumb and finger against her eyes, she does not pay attention to the fact that she is running a red light. She hears a shrill screeching of tires and a long horn. She barely has time to see the headlights of the car bearing down on her at full speed when it strikes her from the passenger side.

 

******

 

Scully wakes up to the sound of monitors beeping in her hospital room. Her head hurts like hell. The doors open to her worried mother.

 

"Mom?"

"Hello honey! How are you feeling?"

"What are you doing here?"

"The hospital called me about an hour ago when they couldn't reach Fox, sweetheart. Where is he?"

"Oh my God!" She touches her head again.

"What is it?"

"I got a call around four. Mulder went into a bar, probably had too much to drink and got involved in a fight. I was on my way to bail him out."

"Oh! Tell me where he is, I'll go get him."

 

Scully is about to tell her mother that she is not sure whether she wants to bail him out or let him have a night to think, when a doctor enters the room.

 

"Hello Miss Scully, I'm Dr. Derren. I was on duty when you were brought to the ER. Do you remember what happened?"

"I think so. I was driving but I was tired. I guess I wasn't paying attention. I must have run a light."

"You did. You were in a car crash, and from what I've heard, there's not much left of your car. You were unconscious but we had you sedated. You are a very lucky woman. You have no spinal or neck damage, nor any broken bones. We had to remove some glass from your left arm, and you have a mild concussion on the forehead. But other than that... We are going to keep you twenty-four hours or so to rule out traumatic brain injuries. But you should be fine."

"Thank you, doctor."

"Get some rest. I'll come check on you in a couple of hours." He says and he exits the room.

"You should go too, Mom, I'm fine. Take my keys and go to our place."

"What about Fox?"

"Let him rest in jail, it'll do him good. There has to be somewhere to draw the line."

"You sure? I don't mean to pry, honey, but do you even know why he went into that bar?"

"Mom, I don't wanna know..." She whispers.

"Can I at least tell him where you are?"

"I'll have the hospital call the police station."

"Okay, honey. I'll come back later today then. Try and get some sleep."

 

As soon as her mother has left the bedroom, Scully hides her face inside her hands, the tears running down her face are hot with her anger. Yes, she is mad at him! What the hell was he doing in a bar in the middle of the night? Why did he leave the house without telling her? Why does she feel she will always have to come to his rescue? And although she is the one lying in a hospital bed, why does she feel bad for him? For leaving him in jail all night? Why can't she just blame him? Mulder was such an introverted, sensitive and vulnerable man... Was it about William again? Damn him for putting her through this!

She picks up the phone on the bedside table, dials a number and clears her throat to try to hide the fact that she has been crying.

 

"I've changed my mind, Mom. Do you mind going down to the station?"

 

******

 

It is midday when Dr. Derren opens the door to Scully's room and lets Mulder in. He thanks the doctor silently and closes the door behind him. Scully is sleeping. He pulls a chair closer to the bed, sits down and takes her hand in his, like he has done so many times before. He stares at her, covering his mouth with one hand, sorry and disgusted with himself.

The minutes slide by as Mulder checks on his watch several times.

After about two hours, he silently leaves her room and wanders the halls and anterooms for her doctor, whom he eventually finds.

 

"Should she still be sleeping?"

"There's no way to know how much she needs to rest, but it's nothing out of the ordinary nor anything to be worried about."

"You told me that you'd watch her for brain trauma... I should not worry that oversleeping could be a symptom?"

"No, don't worry. I would tell you. The MRI was clean. We're keeping her out of precaution. She was very lucky."

 

Mulder is not entirely reassured, but he manages to grin at the thought of Scully's immortality and he goes back into her room.

He returns to his chair and takes her hand again. She has not moved an inch since he left. But as he caresses her fingers softly, they tremble a little. Mulder raises his eyes in hope, eager at the slightest sign of life from her. After a few moments, Scully fully awakens and sees him right away. He smiles in relief and his mouth forms a silent "Hey!" She stays quiet, so he speaks.

 

"There's no way to tell you how fucking sorry I am, Scully. And if you want me out, I understand. I just wanted to check and make sure you were okay."

 

Her features are fixed in a mask of anger. He stares at her for a moment, hoping to hear a response from her.

 

"I wish you'd talk to me, Scully. Tell me you're upset! Tell me you're mad! Punch me in the nose... anything?"

"Not in the mood."

"Okay, I'll go." He waits a moment before doing it, not breaking eye contact. "Can you just... Will you please call me when they release you? So I can pick you up?"

She tightens her jaw. "I'll call Mom."

He nods, defeated. Then he puts his other hand to hers and raises it to his mouth to give it a kiss. "I'm sorry," he says again before leaving.

 

******

 

Mulder is on the porch of their house when Margaret's car approaches up the driveway and stops a few meters from the stairs. Scully unbuckles her seatbelt and looks at Mulder who is looking back to her.

 

"Don't do something you'll regret, honey," her mother advises softly.

Scully turns a wistful face to her. "I lose either way, Mom," she answers, kissing her on the cheek.

 

She thanks her for the ride, takes a deep breath and exits the car. She begins walking toward the house, then she turns to look as her mother backs out of the driveway. As she reaches the top of the porch stairs, Mulder gently takes the bag containing her few belongings.

 

"How do you feel?"

"We need to talk."

 

Pained, he nods and follows her inside. She walks to the kitchen where she helps herself to a drink of water. She is silent for a moment, not knowing if she should — or even wants to — ask him why he went into that damn bar and what happened there.

 

"Mulder, I don't know if I can keep going on like this..." She starts.

"I know, and I'm sorry. I don't know what to do or what I can say to show you how much I am. If something had happened to you, I don't know how—"

"I know you are. But it doesn't change a thing. This relationship..." She gestures in the air between their chests with her hands; they are barely three feet from each other, "... This relationship is destroying me."

 

He reaches out and takes her in his arms. She turns her face against his chest, puts her hands on his back, and he rests his chin on top of her head. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, as if to give herself courage.

 

"I need to empty my mind," she continues. Then she looks up at him. "I need to distance myself a little... from you..."

 

Shaken, he tightens his jaw. He had expected reprimands, but certainly not this. He sucks in his breath slowly in disbelief.

 

"Scully..."

"A few days or a few weeks at the most—"

"Don't do this, Scully."

"I don't know what else to do," she whispers, not looking at him.

"I _need_ you. I don't know who I am without you."

"Please don't do this to me. Please don't make this any harder than it already is..."

"I'm only whole when you're by my side, Scully. I owe you everything. I can't let you give up on us so easily. I love you and I know you love me —"

"Love is not the issue, Mulder."

 

They are still in one another's arms. Even as she says the words, Scully finds it almost impossible to let go, to reject him.

 

"It's only for a short time," she promises, trying to convince herself. His eyes are closed and his hands are like suction cups on her back. She straightens to look back up at him after a long silence. "Mulder?"

"You've already made up your mind, haven't you?" He says flatly. This is not a question. This is an acknowledgment. "Nothing I can say will change your mind."

 

He opens his eyes and takes her face in his hands, brushing her cheeks with his thumbs. Then he leans in to kiss her and she opens her mouth to his unspoken request. Their tongues roll languidly while their eyes become moist. The kiss is slow, long and passionate, with a bit of sadness in the back of their throats. It is shared, it is full of tenderness, pain and helplessness. Their faces part but their eyes tinted with tears speak a thousand pardons.

 

"Je t'aime," he says in French as if words had more strength in a foreign language. He does not need to hear the words from her to be absolutely confident about the reciprocity of them. "Do you want me to leave the house?"

"No, thank you, it wouldn't be fair," she says, breaking the embrace.

"Where will you go?"

"I'm going to take a few days off and go to my mother's, I guess."

 

He gently wipes a tear from her cheek, and she runs her hands through her hair to comb it. When she turns to go to their bedroom to fill a suitcase, he grabs her hand. She stops and turns again to face him. Once he is sure to have caught her eyes, he says, "I'm not coming back from you, woman. Make sure you are quick to come back to me."

 

She smiles for an instant in spite of herself and heads for the bedroom. Once she has left the room, Mulder passes his hands through his hair too, and turns toward the door and then back to porch, not sure where he should go. He already feels lost and disoriented.

 

******


	6. BUT LET IT TRY

CHAPTER 6. BUT LET IT TRY  
OCTOBER 2010

 

Seven weeks have passed since Scully left. In the first days, Mulder called her every single day, or sometimes she called him. Then, as time went by, the interval between their calls rose to two days, then three, then four... Throughout the weeks, Mulder tried to respect her wish to step back, hoping his desire for her return would be fulfilled without smothering her. Like a castaway on a desert island, Mulder engraved small sticks on the back of his office's door to mark each day without her, but he did not need to count them to know how many there were and that there were way too many of them.

He has been completely immersed in the writing of his book. And surprisingly, it has been progressing well. He has continued to religiously take the drugs prescribed by his favorite doctor. And again surprisingly, his nightmares have decreased, even disappearing, as he continues writing and researching the truth about what is set to take place — perhaps — on December 22, 2012, at the "End Game".

But each day that goes by, he misses her more, the pain stabbing him like a knife a little deeper into his wounded flesh the longer they are apart.

Meanwhile, Scully had lost herself in her work, accepting more complicated clinical cases, trying at all costs to challenge and keep her mind busy to whatever was not linked to Mulder or William. Sometimes she spends the night in the hospital or sleeps at a colleague's so that she does not have to drive all the way back to her mother's. Regularly forgetting to feed herself, she has lost a little weight.

All that their break up has taught her though is how empty her life is without Mulder. Of course what she is doing is useful, and she knows it, but what is the point of devoting everything, her life and health, to just her work at the hospital? Is she less unhappy now that she had swept out of hand the difficulties of her life? Now that she is missing Mulder beyond what she had imagined, why is she killing herself to try to forget him?

Sitting on the bench in the middle of the other doctors' lockers, she looks at her phone. No message from Mulder. No missed calls. 

 

******

 

Mulder is in the bathroom getting into a pair of sports shorts. Then, he sits down on the edge of the bathtub and he laces his sneakers. He gets up, picks up his Georgetown Hoyas cap from a hook on the back of the door and stares into the mirror, putting it on. His eyes are blank, haggard. He rubs his unshaven stubble, not motivated to do anything about it. He turns the visor to the back of his head, turns off the light and exits.

 

******

 

Scully stops at the reception area to say that she is taking the rest of the day off. The clock above the secretary's office shows 2PM. When she passes the threshold, while rummaging through her pockets in search of her car keys, she notes that even if leaves on the trees have begun to turn, it is still relatively mild for the middle of October.

She slowly drives through Main Street, her eyes passing over the different shops. She ends up parking in front of a 7-Eleven and emerges a few minutes later with a small brown bag.

When she arrives to their house, her heart is pounding and she instantly regrets that Mulder is not there and that the door is locked. She puts her bag on a rocking chair and pulls out her phone from her jacket. She is about to call him when she changes her mind at the last minute. She puts the phone back, puts the bag down and sits down instead.

Time passes slowly. She is so carried away by the tranquility of the place that sometimes her eyelids just want to close. Although Mulder is not there, she feels reassured, full and serene. She can almost smell him in the air, almost feel his arms wrapping around her thoroughly and her snuggling against him. That is all she wants for now: to feel some warmth, life, and a heart that actually beats.

She is about to close her eyes again when she sees and hears him at once. "Holy cow! I'll be damned!" He says, running faster to get to her.

And there comes her racing heart again! She rises to reach him atop of the stairs. He immediately takes her in his arms, soaked with sweat.

 

"You should've called, I would've shaved, showered and definitely not run!"

"Don't care!"

 

She grabs his face and kisses him. It is initially slow and tender, but desires flare quickly and the excitement and lack of being together ignite the kiss. Mulder runs his hands along her body, caressing every part of her while Scully is practically trying to superimpose her nails into the skin of his neck and back. Mulder's hand stops on her thigh and he lifts it up to his hip, pulling Scully as close as she possibly can be. Their faces tilt to one side then to the other to allow their tongues to rediscover all their mouths' hidden recesses. Holding her thigh against his hip with one hand, his other hand squeezes her ass and presses her against him. She feels his erect cock against her belly, and with a firm caress, she glides her hands down his back to his buttocks to press himself against her too.

Mulder loses a bit of his balance as he lifts her second leg up his waist. Then, he walks toward the house, holding tighter onto his grip, to trap her between him and the wall of the house. They stay thus a while, still kissing, Mulder pressing almost all of his weight on Scully.

Then he fondles her until his hands are located on the sides of her ribcage, grabbing her there, and while stepping back a bit from the wall, while continuing their spellbound kiss, he raises her above him, like an athlete carrying a weight, slowly progressing upwards, like a parent carrying his child over his head in a moment of joy. Scully lets out a small grin of surprise in his mouth. Her legs lean against his stomach, her knees to his chest, she places her hands along his jaw, stroking the top of his neck. Their kiss is hot and increasingly seeking, their noses rub whenever they switch angles.

Scully breaks the kiss first, opens her eyes to him and taps gently but urgently on Mulder's shoulders. "Mulder! Hold on! Slow down! I need to breathe!"

He lets her down until her feet touch the ground, keeping her within his embrace, her arms wrapped around his shoulders. She closes her eyes and tries to catch her breath.

 

"Now I really need a shower!" He smiles. He buries his face in the curve of Scully's neck and takes a deep breath, wanting to recapture that familiar scent, closing his eyes to fully enjoy it. How much he has missed that smell!

With one hand, he searches his pocket, takes out a key between two fingers and shows it to Scully. "Wanna come in for a cup of tea or something?" He asks teasingly.

"Hum, let me think...!" She smirks.

 

He puts his arm around her waist, pressing her to him and unlocks the door, then he pushes it open to let them in. She closes it back with a back of a hand. And as soon as it is closed, she returns the gesture; she pushes him back, imprisoning him between the door and her excited body, taking his face in her hands. Mulder feels his legs give way under him, a combination of his jogging and this unexpected reunion. He lets her be in position of strength for a while. Then he takes her hands, palm against palm, fingers interlaced, and then he raises their hands to the level of her shoulders and forces Scully to turn around, pinning her back against the door and taking control. Her hand reaches out and travels between his legs.

Over his shorts, her hand flirts with his sex. She strokes his lower stomach and slides her hand under the waistband of his shorts. Mulder feels an intense heat invade him. His legs weaken again, they tremble. Taking advantage of this moment of weakness, she reverses the situation once again, gluing him back to the door. He too sets his hand between her thighs, sliding under her skirt, inside the hot and humid warmth of her panties. He goes straight to her clitoris, drawing circles on its tip with a finger and penetrating her with two others. She is soaked wet with desire.

He parts from the door with a push of his buttocks, puts his free hand on the small of her back to prevent her from falling and begins to walk forward. At no time do their mouths part, except to draw in a deeper breath, or to moan each other's names. Her hand pumps his long hard cock and his fingers play between her clit and the lips of her vagina. He continues to push back. 

Stopped by the kitchen counter, he brings together the little strength he has left, dragging her skirt over her hips, takes her by the waist and lifts her atop the counter.

Once she is sitting, he slides her panties down her thighs and her calves until they fall. He lowers his shorts as she spreads her legs and crosses her feet behind his ass, seizing the back of his neck with her hands. When his sex enters hers, he feels really feeble. In fear of collapsing, he grips the edge of the counter with both hands. Arms outstretched, he tries to sustain his weight while swaying his hips and giving rhythm to his thrusts.

 

"You okay?" She asks, breathless and concerned.

"Just a little weak and light-headed. It'll pass."

 

It _had_ to pass, he thinks. Scully gently pushes him back, stopping the action. Mulder's head seems so heavy that it falls forward between his shoulders. Scully slips off the counter between his arms and turns around. Then she rests her elbows on the counter between his hands. "Lean on me," she whispers.

She arches her back and he leans forward. He places his hands on her smooth stomach, and then recovers his thrusts. She accompanies each of his penis' movement by kicking her butt backward, allowing him to penetrate her deeper. With a hand, he stimulates her clit, and he quickly feels the muscles of her vagina contract around him. Mulder tries to relax, waiting for her to come first, and when eventually he hears her moaning with pleasure, he releases all gates, pumps and accelerates the pace half a dozen times. He puts his cheek on her sweaty back between her shoulder blades. They breathe hard. Then he comes out of her and warns her that he has more strength; his legs abandon him and he slides along countertop until he is sitting on the ground. Scully tries to support him with one arm under his armpit, then she knees besides him.

 

"Jeez, Scully! You really should have called! At least I wouldn't have jogged for two hours or so... My legs are all weak..."

"You really didn't think I would show up on your birthday, Mulder?"

"It is today?"

"October, 13th. Last I checked." She wonders if he is serious. "You really forgot today was your birthday?"

 

He wags his head and she helps him up. "Come on up, I got you a root beer!" He raises an eyebrow and takes the hand she offers. He stands up, stays still to find his balance and then he puts an arm around Scully's shoulders who she helps him to get to the couch where he limply collapses.

 

"You okay?" She gently mocks.

"Just give me a minute and I will."

 

She takes a tissue from the kitchen, cleanses her inner tights, lowers her skirt and lets herself fall on the couch to sit close to him. He drops an arm around her and pulls her to him.

 

"We're not 20 anymore, Scully."

"Too old for this stuff?"

He quickly turns his face in her direction and smiles in surprise, "Never!"

"Next year's a big step for you, Mulder."

"Read my lips, Scully: Ne-Ver!" He lays his hand on her hair and softly pulls her head to his lips, then he kisses her temple. "I'm glad you came." He takes her hand. "And I'm glad you kept the ring."

 

She stands, puts her hands on his knees and bends to brush his lips with hers. "Let me get my stuff from outside." While she goes, he pushes his head back on the cushions. Then he stands and goes looking for his boxers. She comes back and sits where she was before, as does he. She puts the brown bag on the coffee table and opens it.

 

"Hey! Look at that! It's not root beer! Iced tea, Mulder?" He smiles and accepts the bottle she offers. "You look good, Mulder, very good."

 

He raises the bottle, as if to toast, and looks at it, thoughtfully.

 

"What's wrong?" She asks.

"Don't you ever miss it? Working together? Confronting ideas?"

"Well, yeah, I guess... a little. Why the nostalgia?"

"Oh, I'm not... not really."

"Never regret something that once made you happy. Never say never."

"You would know, right?"

"Yeah." A little annoyed about this underlying reference to her tattoo and her brief affair with Ed Jerse, she takes the remote and turns on the television.

 

"Chile's trapped miners were shuttled up a narrow escape shaft to freedom and joyous reunions on Wednesday in a meticulously planned rescue operation that ended their two-month ordeal deep underground. One by one, the miners climbed into a specially designed steel capsule barely wider than a man's shoulders and took a 15-minute journey through 2,050 feet of rock to the surface. With 29 of the 33 miners freed in a rescue operation that advanced rapidly without hitches, officials expected to have the remaining men out by the end of the day instead of in 48 hours as originally estimated..." The journalist relates while the footage shows the rescue.

"Two months, Scully! Two months they've been trapped underground. Can you believe that?"

"Almost sounds like an X-File."

"My point exactly!"

"Mulder, you can't register every single unexplained case to an X-File."

"That is the very definition of them!"

 

Mulder's cell phone starts ringing. He gets up while Scully keeps her eyes on the amazing rescue images on the TV. She hears him answer his phone. "Mulder... Oh! Hey!... Ah, you did? Great! Hold on, let me grab a pen... Where is he now?... Ok... Ok... Yes, she's right here now..." He turns his face to Scully, still focusing on the TV. "Ok I will. Thanks Skinman!" He hangs up and goes back to Scully.

 

"That was Skinner?" She asks, surprised.

"Yeah, I called him earlier this week to ask him for Doggett's phone number."

"Doggett? Why would you want to talk to him?"

"I want to ask him if he still has contacts in the military. Hey! How about a little trip to New York? We could go meet an old pal, attend to a play, take selfies in front of Miss Liberty...! Whaddya say?"

"An 'old pal', Mulder?"

"Why, yeah! He was a good friend of yours, wasn't he?"

"I guess... What is he doing in New York?"

"He went back to the NYPD last year or so. Come on, Scully! Let's pack a few things and get _in_ that damn car!"

"Okay." She grins.

"Thanks!" He replies, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek and taking off like a child who has been told he is going to Disneyland. 

 

******


	7. BACK IN THE DAY

CHAPTER 7. BACK IN THE DAY  
OCTOBER 13, 2010

 

On the same afternoon, Mulder is driving Scully's car, both hands tightly gripped on the steering wheel, simply happy. Occasionally, he turns his face to her with a genuine smile.

 

"Isn't this the perfect birthday, Scully?"

"What is? You driving us? If I had known it was this simple..."

"Yeah, exactly: you and me crossing the country, like back in the day!"

"So then, tell me. Why do you want to see Doggett?"

"I've been doing some research on these Super Soldiers. As you can guess, it's a needle in a hay stack. So frustrating! We already know they want to knock out any and all human attempts to survive the alien colonization of Earth and were created to aid in the extraterrestrial repopulation of the planet. Several individuals who served in the United States Military — some we encountered served with Bravo Company, a company Doggett also served with in the United States Marine Corps — were replaced by alien Super Soldiers and were originally deployed during the Gulf war. On February 26, 1991, Zeke Josepho was leading a team of soldiers in Iraq when they were ambushed by Saddam Hussein's forces, and all of Josepho's team was killed except for himself. He then witnessed four soldiers wearing American uniforms obliterate the holed-in enemy and survive gunshots as well as an explosion. Stunned by this experience, Josepho interpreted not only these particular Super Soldiers as having been angels but subsequently also thought of the Super Soldiers in general as 'the true sons of God'. Josepho whom you've met as a now cult leader, worships aliens and came to the belief that William had been born to fulfill his prophesied role as a future savior to the aliens and would do so, would follow my path, unless I was killed. The Shadow Man, whom you met later, confirmed that belief by claiming that either I or William had to die. Back in 2000, certain abductees — yours truly included — were collectively taken and were individually returned in 2001, with their bodies prepared for undergoing the transformation into a Super Soldier. I'll spare you the _preparation_ and torture souvenirs... But you witnessed Billy Miles's full transformation, Scully. And before this, you were targeted to be killed when you were pregnant. You told me that Doggett told you that your pregnancy was the result of a government cloning experiment to create a Super Soldier."

"I don't know that _this_ is true, Mulder."

"Scully, don't you remember? Just before William was born, we learned the Syndicate supervised and financed the attempts to create a cloned baby hybrid. Specific data, information that was highly sought after, extremely well protected and stored in the US Census Bureau that pertained to certain individuals, each of whom had been targeted due to their genetic profile. Krycek also claimed that the prospect of William's birth threatened the alien repopulation and that the Super Soldiers feared his implications, that he could somehow be greater than them and might be more human than human, implying that there was a God or higher power."

"Yes, I recall all this, but Billy Miles and the others were there when I gave birth, and yet they didn't take William. You suggested it yourself: maybe he was not what they were looking for."

"Seriously, Scully? Like you didn't witness anything strange at all? Like it wasn't one of the reasons you gave him up for adoption?"

"Alright, let's not go down this road again..."

"Fair enough. Anyway... these Super Soldiers are a lie. They were called this in a way to explain them away in a terrestrial, somewhat believable way. But it's all just a conspiracy of high levels of _our_ government such as the Defense Department, developing genetically-modified human beings."

"What's new in all this? What have you discovered?"

"What I've discovered is something I've known it for a while. It was the reason I was arrested and sentenced to death. It's what I've kept from you."

 

Mulder looks straight ahead, putting her silent question on hold. The road is traffic-free. He turns his face to his window, thoughtfully, as if he is looking at Mother Nature for the first time.

 

"Mulder, what have you found?"

"A date," he says, turning back to her. "A date for the colonization."

"December 22, 2012? CSM mentioned it in the mountains."

"Yes. On December 22, in two years. They've called it 'the End Game'."

"I know this date, Mulder. It's a Mayan prediction. A myth. An urban legend."

"I know it too. Maybe the Syndicate has decided to match this date... as a bad joke? Making a sense of it?" Then he takes a reciting tone. "December 22, 2012. The date set for mobilization of alien forces which culminates in the complete and total overthrow of civilian and military resources. Date was first recorded by air force general Daniel P. Miller upon receipt of alien intelligence in Roswell, NM in 1947 after direct contact with alien species confirmed information. All military officials are instructed to stand down and follow emergency protocols until further instructions. It is anticipated that civilian government will be destroyed, resulting in the transfer of power to FEMA, the Federal Emergency."

"What is that?"

"It's the only information I was able to read in that facility before Knowle Rohrer stopped me and I supposedly killed him."

"Do you believe they are planning on executing their plan?"

"Why else did they try to mute me?"

 

She does not answer, thinking through all that Mulder just said.  
As they keep talking, they pass the New York state sign, the Empire State. 

 

******

 

Mulder and Scully are sitting at the table in the back of a restaurant. It is night. It is the middle of the week and it is pouring outside which is most likely the reason that the restaurant is almost empty. In the street, the cars drive fast, beeping horns now and then. Pedestrians without an umbrella run to find shelter. The rush of the City. Their quiet and peaceful home is long gone. Mulder watches his wrist watch, anxious for Doggett to arrive. Scully reaches for his hand and squeezes it a moment before Doggett, dressed as a civilian, enters. He shakes his umbrella outside, puts it in the umbrella stand and closes the door behind him. As he looks for them, Mulder raises a hand and they both stand to greet him.

 

"Look at you two!" He hugs Scully and vigorously shakes Mulder's hand and they all sit back down. "I couldn't believe it when you called. It's been over eight years."

"You don't say!" Mulder says.

"I heard something like 'all is forgiven' after you helped the FBI on a case?"

"That's correct, don't have to live as an outlaw anymore." He faux-grins.

"And what brought you back to New York, ... John?" Scully asks, hesitating at what to call him.

"John." He smiles.

"Well, I guess I can't technically go with 'Agent Doggett' anymore. Is that okay with you?"

"Oh yeah! No problem!" He says catching Mulder raising a brow at Scully. "Actually, everything went to hell after you two disappeared in 2002. The X-Files eventually closed. Monica and I tried our best to protect and hide Gibson—"

"How is Monica?" Scully asks at the exact moment Mulder asks "Do you know where Gibson is?"

 

He looks at them both but does not have time to answer either one as a waiter interrupts. He then notices the ring on Scully's left hand.

 

"Good evening ma'am, sirs! May I recommend one of today's specials? Tonight we have the vegetarian tourtiere with cheddar or the Hungarian stew made with pork. The Hungarian stew is made with bacon, tomatoes and comes with egg noodles."

 

Both men go with the stew while Scully goes for the tourtiere and orders a bottle of red chardonnay.

 

"I haven't seen or heard from Monica in years. I wish I could, but even Skinner doesn't know how to reach her. And I don't know where Gibson is either. He has my number if he ever needs me. But in the last eight years, he's only contacted me once."

"Why did he contact you?” Mulder asks.

"It was in 2005. He just wanted to let me know he was all right, still alive, and still had my phone number. I offered him to meet him somewhere, but he declined."

"Thoughtful," Scully says, wishing William could do this too.

"Yeah, I thought that too! Anyway, as I was saying, everything went to hell in DC and I was offered a supervising chief position here in 2004. About a month later, as I was considering the position, my former wife contacted me. She was just recovering from burnout and wanted me to consider coming back into her life."

Mulder looks at Scully, and asks, "If coincidences are just coincidences, why do they feel so contrived, Scully?"

"That's from one of our cases?" she asks, surprised.

"Duh!" He smiles, "Sometimes I wonder how you survived through med school. You have such a terrible memory, Scully! I'm sorry, Doggett, please continue."

"That's about it. I took the job and the wife!" He grins as the waiter bring the bottle of wine and starts pouring three glasses. Scully raises hers toward Doggett.

"I'm happy for you. She should have come along!" He gestures sorry and raises his glass too. "And happy birthday dear." She says, turning to Mulder.

"It is today!? Happy birthday, Mulder!" Mulder thanks him with a smile and clinks his glass to Doggett's.

 

******

 

Their plates have just arrived but the bottle is more than two thirds empty. Doggett takes it and offers to refill Mulder's glass but he declines, explaining that he is taking medication. Scully accepts and takes a sip.

 

"So, Doggett!" Mulder starts, "The reason I wanted to talk to you is that I know the military are keeping a dead Super Soldier—"

"Oh my God! 'Super soldiers', haven't heard that term in— Where did you get the intel from?"

"Some underground website that I trust to be accurate." Scully arches a brow. Mulder does not see it and continues. "I'd first like to get in touch with a trustworthy military contact of yours, preferably with high level of intel, try and gain access to the results of whatever autopsy they performed as well as the Soldier's altered DNA. For starters."

"Since when do know any underground website, Mulder!?" Scully gapes at him; Mulder clicks his tongue in response.

"I'll see what I can do." Doggett accepts.

"And oh, if Gibson ever contacts you again, will you tell him I want to see him and have him give me a call? And if he doesn't want to, just let me know he called you, see if you can track his call."

"Sure thing!"

That night on Mulder's forty-ninth birthday, the three old friends finish their dinner while chitchatting and catching up. Eventually, they say goodbye and promise to keep in touch. Later, in the three-star hotel, Mulder and Scully do not make out, just as if they were on a case. They do fall asleep in each other's arms, though.

 

******


	8. MAYBE THERE'S HOPE

CHAPTER 8. MAYBE THERE'S HOPE  
WASHINGTON, DC, AIRPORT — MARCH 2011

 

"This is our non-wedding honeymoon getaway, Scully... and a late birthday present!"

"A trip to Mexico to visit the Mayan ruins?" she asks, rolling her eyes.

"You don't like Mexico?"

"Come on, Mulder! This is no romantic weekend; this is business, your business! This is just a trick to get me to go."

"It kind of makes me sound like an asshole... And besides, you've never heard of mixing business with pleasure? Men have been doing it for centuries, how is it that women can't?"

"Mulder, this Mayan prediction is a hoax."

"How can you of all people say that? Between about 300 and 900 A.D., the Maya were responsible for a number of remarkable scientific achievements in astronomy, agriculture, engineering and communications. For example, they knew how to predict solar eclipses! Don't you find that amazing!? _Doctor_ Scully?"

"I do know that the Maya were extraordinary scientists, Mulder. But I still think it's a huge leap to put faith in some event that supposedly occurs once every 5125 years. The last event from that cycle was back in 3113 _before Christ_ , Mulder!"

"Someone did their homework! I'm not saying that a meteor or something natural is gonna hit Earth. I don't know that... But I'm saying that _maybe_ , the Syndicate or aliens or whoever decided to go with this peculiar date, did it for a reason and not just to make a poor joke that wouldn't be understood anyway if every soul died afterwards. Maybe there's a reason why the End Game is supposed to happen on December 22nd next year, on the same day the Maya predicted Earth would self-destructs and no human life would survive. Besides, many people have speculated that the Maya were visited by extraterrestrials and that at least one of their deities, Kukulcan may have been a galactic visitor who taught the Maya about agriculture, mathematics, medicine and astronomy. How else could one explain the Mayan calendar, a calendar that to this day can accurately predict every lunar eclipse within thirty seconds? The Maya knew of planets that were not discovered until many centuries later. They were also the first civilization to use the zero in mathematics."

"What do you expect to find?"

"Hope." 

 

******

 

Scully is washing her hands in the airplane bathroom. Mulder knocks on the door and whispers, "Scully, it's me, open up!"

 

"This must be the place." He says as she complies.

"Can't you just wait for a sec, I'm almost done."

"No I can't." He says pushing her back inside so that the two of them can fit when he closes the door.

"Mulder, what do you think you're d—?"

 

She cannot finish her sentence. Mulder grabs her by the waist and sits her against the sink. She lets out a little cry of surprise. "Hey! Be quiet!" He mumbles in her hear. "We won't do anything that you're not completely comfortable with, promise!"

"Mulder, you're nuts! We can't—!" She whispers, a bit panicked.

 

Once again he shushes her, this time by pulling her head closer to meet her lips with a kiss, and then he skims her inner thighs with his other hand. "Not fair," she moans in his mouth. Her hand then heads for his pants' zipper.

 

"Hard already?" She grins.

"Wet already?"

"I am _not_!"

 

He takes her hand and guides it to her folds. She shyly smiles.

 

"I told you it was a honeymoon-like gateway, Scully. You won't get my hands off of you."

"I dare you!"

"So I guess you're comfortable with this?"

"Mulder, can you save the chitchat for when we go back to our seats?Just get to the point and make it quick!"

"A quickie, gotcha!" He grins and kisses her again, opening up her shirt and unsnapping her bra to caress her voluptuous breasts.

 

She tries to stand to raise her skirt above her hips and lower her panties. This place is so small! She wonders how the six feet of Mulder can even fit. With his help, she manages to back up and part her legs. He keeps one hand on the small of her back as the other guides his sex inside hers. In such a precarious place, excitement rises faster than usual. Before they know it, in this confined space, they are both sweating. The air smells like sex already. As Mulder moves back and forth with his pants still on and buttoned with only his fly down, Scully is totally aroused. Her head falls backwards in a quiet moan of pleasure, and it hits the mirror. Mulder slows the pace and feels her head carefully. Breathing hard, he asks her if she is alright. She nods, gasps and rests her forehead on Mulder's chest. Then she squeezes his ass and urges him to continue. "Finish me already, honey, I'm dying here!" She pants.

Breathing becomes more difficult as each second passes in the hot and stifling room, but their mouths find each other again anyway. Mulder's thrusts become faster, shorter and deeper as he grabs her buttocks and pulls her against him to match his own rhythm. Her breasts are bouncing up and down wildly against his chest making him crazy. He breaks the kiss. They are both still breathing hard, almost loudly. Mulder looks to her face to make eye contact, but her eyes are closed. He worries that he might have hurt her, that her eyes might be closed by pain and not pleasure. He needs to know she's okay, so he slows down a little, and after a moment, she looks up at him. His green eyes search her face, asking a silent question; her blue eyes warmly assure that she's fine. Without breaking their intent gaze, breathing in unison with her, Mulder once again increases the speed of his thrusts, penetrating her hard and deep, swinging his hips as he lifts her up to enter her from a different angle. Her eyes are still on him, filled with an equal mixture of desire and devotion, and he knows the same is reflected back to her. They are in total communion, listening with their eyes, their hearts, their souls. Absolute soulmates. Indivisible. Unbreakable. And every time it happens, they climax together, in a single moan, a single breath. Just like now. And just as if luck was on their side too, it is only afterward that a passenger decides to gently knock on the door, probably worrying about some little noise he might have heard and wondering if everything is okay.

Scully descends from the sink and smoothes her skirt down. "You leave first." Mulder murmurs.

She takes his face in her hands, gives him a quick kiss and tells him she loves him. He says he loves her too. Then she exits, combing her hair with her fingertips. The door closes behind her.

 

"I wouldn't go here, sir, the flush is broken or something."

 

Mulder is leaning against the door and he smiles as he hears her diverting the passenger. "Oh, thank you, madam!" He hears the stranger reply.

Less than a minute later, he sits back down next to her. He takes her hand and crosses his fingers with hers. He gazes at her.

 

"The world didn't end!"

"No, it didn't!"

 

He tries to tuck his long legs the best he can and he slides downward into his seat so that he can rest his head on her shoulder. Then he closes his eyes. 

 

******

 

TULUM, MEXICO — THE NEXT DAY

 

Wearing a light blue satin robe, Scully is leaning against the balcony railing. The landscape in front of her is all shades of blue and green, contrasted with the creamy white sand. Mulder walks up behind her, wearing nothing but his boxers, and puts his arms around her, hands on her stomach. She leans her head back on his shoulder.

 

"Still feeling like you’re trapped on a business trip? Should I get down there with a guitar and sing for you?"

"Can you play?"

"I can learn! 'I've been trying to do it right, I've been livin' a lonely life, I've been sleeping here detached, I've been sleeping in my couch, sleeping in my couch...'," he sings, changing the lyrics of the 'Ho Hey' song to fit his story. She turns around delighted. "That's it, sorry! Can't remember the rest of the lyrics."

"Oh no! That was brilliant! You can't remember the rest of it, and yet someone once said _I_ had a poor memory...!"

"Someone said 'terrible' memory, G-woman! Not that your only joy in life is proving me wrong..." She laughs. This one she knows! She will always remember that Christmas Eve.

She circles her arms around his waist, and he does the same, pulling her close. They turn to each other once again and lock eyes.

 

"Careful, Mulder, I could get used to the Caribbean," she sighs. "So, what's the plan?"

"You know, the usual deal: crime scene, police station, witnesses..."

"It doesn't sound like 'hope' to me!"

"How 'bout visiting a few old ruins?"

"Much better!"

"Maybe there _is_ hope!" He grins.

"That reminds me of a poem by Leonard Nimoy called 'Because'. Do you know it?"

"No, but I'm all ears..."

"'Because I have known despair, I value hope. Because I have tasted frustration, I value fulfillment. Because I have been lonely, I value love.'"

"Is is aimed to me?"

"Not especially, I recognize myself in it too."

"Yeah."

"Let's change our clothes and get out of here. It's such a gorgeous day!" 

 

******

 

TULUM ARCHAEOLOGICAL SITE

 

The Tulum archeological site seems pulled straight from a movie set. The Mayan temple is located a few meters away from a white chalk cliff capped by palm trees and against which lagoon-colored waves gently crash. Although not the biggest of the temples in the region, the main temple from this site is very well-preserved and its architecture is impressive. Time has marked with black and greenish stains the originally pale gray-colored stones. From the uncountable stairs leading to what certainly was the main piece, opened by three doorways and supported by two large cylindrical columns, the building is symmetrical; on each side, smaller stairs lead to another room with a ceiling height just reaching the top of the main staircase. Alas, many tourists — not always with the best of taste in their choice of clothes — wander around, cameras around their necks. They are reminders of the twenty-first century where this site does not belong.

 

"I feel like being a part of an Indiana Jones' movie! I wish they had shot 'The Lazarus Bowl' on a set like this!" Scully exclaims.

"Yeah, it's beautiful. But look around, Scully, this is a tourist attraction." He takes her hand. "Come on, we're meeting the real deal in two hours."

"Who's he again?"

"Dr. Francisco Ekangminio Peluna. Francisco was a practicing medical doctor, then taught as a Professor of Medicine before first obtaining political office. He was the first person of pure Mayan ancestry to govern Yucatán since the Spanish conquest of Yucatán. He is about 75 years old now, but he still has great contacts of influence. He is passionate and puts his whole heart into making sure others don’t his ancestors and their accomplishments are not forgotten. He's living in Valladolid now. It's about an hour, an hour and a half drive from here. Let's go?"

"Yeah. The thrill is gone!" 

 

******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michelle pointed out to me that the Lumineers' song "Ho Hey" wasn't release until 2012. Let's pretend it was 2010.. :)


	9. SHAPES OF AN END GAME

CHAPTER 9. SHAPES OF AN END GAME  
RESIDENCE OF DR. FRANCISCO EKANGMINIO PELUNA, VALLADOLID, MEXICO

 

"Thank you for meeting with us, sir."

"It's my pleasure! How can I be of any help?"

"What can you tell us about the ancient Mayan prophecy?" Mulder asks.

"What would you like to know?"

"Any idea what will happen?" Scully intervenes.

"Nothing." He gently smiles.

"I'm sorry?" She wonders, astonished.

"Nothing will happen. The Mayan calendar doesn't end on this specific date. It's all just a misunderstanding, a misinterpretation, a misconception of it." Scully gives Mulder a smug glance as if to say "Now what did I say again!?" as the doctor continues. "The truth is actually more interesting than what media and conspiracy theorists have turned it into. The Mayan civilization mastered astronomy, developed an elaborate written language, and left behind exquisite artifacts. The Maya had an expansive sense of time. The timetables Mayans used dwarf any time scales currently used by modern astronomers. According to your science, the Big Bang occurred 13.7 billion years ago. There are dates and time references in Mayan ruins that stretch back a billion times farther than that."

 

Mulder and Scully politely listen to the old man as he passionately relates the glorious days of his ancestors. As a man involved in politics, he speaks fluent English despite his barely audible Spanish accent. Although his tales are very interesting, Mulder wishes he would get to the point. He pays more attention when the doctor finally starts to discuss the Mayan Calendar.

 

"The Mayan Long Count Calendar was designed to keep track of such long intervals. It is the most complex calendar system ever developed by people anywhere. According to Mayan theology, the world was created 5125 years ago, on a date modern people would write August 11, 3114 BC. At the time, the Mayan calendar looked like this: 13.0.0.0.0. On Dec. 21, 2012, it is exactly the same: 13.0.0.0.0. In the language of Mayan scholars, 13 Bak'tuns or 13 times 144,000 days elapsed between the two dates. This was a significant interval in Mayan theology, but, _not_ a destructive one."

"Indeed," Scully admits, "none of the thousands of ruins, tablets, and standing stones that archeologists have examined foretell an end of the world."

"Many Maya believed that their gods who created the world 5125 years ago would return. One of them in particular, an enigmatic deity named Bolon Yokte' K'uh, would conduct old rites of passage, to set space and time in order, and to regenerate the cosmos."

"So, the world would be refreshed, not destroyed?" Mulder dares to ask.

"Absolutely." He genuinely smiles.

 

The old man keeps talking and Mulder and Scully listening for a few more minutes, without interrupting. Then eventually Mulder gives him his card in case he thinks of something and they thank him and leave. 

 

******

 

The doctor watches them by the window as they leave. The he picks up the phone and dials a number.

 

"I had a visit today, from two old _friends_ of yours: two former FBI agents, Mulder and Scully," he starts.

"Don't worry about them. They're history! They don't know anything, they're in the dark, as they've always been. And if they were to figure something out, we can still take care of it, or postpone our operations in order to mislead them."

"You cannot postpone! That was part of the deal! And the only reason why I joined you on this plan."

"You don't get to vote here, Francisco!"

"If the End Game doesn't occur on the date that was planned by my ancestors, the Maya will be turned into foolish people and I won't let it. I'll... I'll...!"

"Do not bother threatening me, amigo. Others have been there and it didn't end well." He answers calmly taking a cigarette out of its pack. 

 

******

 

"I'm toasted, Mulder!" She exhales as she lets herself fall backward onto their hotel bed. "Car rides are not good on a getaway!"

"Point taken! Didn't you find Francisco interesting though?" He asks while removing his jacket and setting it on the back of a chair. As he does, he does not see a folded sheet of paper fall from his pocket. And while he head for the bathroom, Scully gets up to pick it up.

"Sure it was! But still, three hours in the car for the little of what... thirty minutes talk?"

"The countryside was beautiful Scully!" He yells from the bathroom. "We wouldn't have seen it if it weren't for this little drive." Scully is about to put the paper back in the jacket when she recognizes her writing. Mulder keeps talking about the benefits of their meeting but Scully only answers with a yes or a no, not really listening to him anymore. She reads the letter. 

 

"One day, you'll ask me to speak of a truth — of the miracle of your birth. To explain what is unexplained. And if I falter or fail on this day, know there is an answer, my child, a sacred imperishable truth, but one you may never hope to find alone. Chance meeting your perfect other, your perfect opposite — your protector and endangerer. Chance embarking with this other on the greatest of journeys — a search for truths fugitive and imponderable. If one day this chance may befall you, my son, do not fail or falter to seize it. The truths are out there. And if one day you should behold a miracle, as I have in you, you will learn the truth is not found in science, or on some unseen plane, but by looking into your own heart. And in that moment you will be blessed — and stricken. For the truest truths, are what hold us together, or keep us painfully, desperately apart."

 

She is in shock as she realizes that Mulder has kept in his pocket the letter she wrote to William ten years ago... She puts it away, back in Mulder's jacket and sits back on the edge of the bed.

 

"But you know? As willing as I am to believe his lovely tale, I can't help but thinking that there's more to, that this isn't a coincidence..." Mulder exits from the bathroom still talking. "So? What are you up to? Little walk on the beach? Wanna ride a horse? Swim with dolphins? Whale watching boat tour?"

 

Scully does not answer, she is lost in her thoughts. Why does Mulder have her letter? Where did he get it from and again... why??

 

"Scully?"

"Hum...?"

"Where are you?"

"Sorry, what'd you say?"

"What's wrong?" He worries and he kneels in front of her.

"Nothing, I—" She waves away his angst.

"Scully, I _know_ you. I can tell." He puts his hands on her knees.

 

She closes her eyes. She has to ask anyway or these questions will haunt her forever otherwise. "Okay!" She starts sharply opening her eyes and staring at him. "A piece of paper fell out of the pocket of your jacket." Mulder feels every part of his body stiffen. "I picked it up, just to put it back. But then I saw it was from me, I read it. Where did you get it?" Her voice is soft and low when she puts her hands on Mulder's atop her knees.

"I found it in all our paperwork when I was working on my book," he says, inhaling deeply. "It's not the original, I made a copy."

"That's not my point," she continues, just as gentle. "I had completely forgotten about it..."

"Not surprising!" He grins. He gets a small smile from her out of this.

"Why would you keep it? Why do you have it now?"

"I've been carrying it with me ever since I found it, honey. It's not that I just now have it."

"But why!?"

"Why?" He repeats, not understanding her confusion. "It's the most beautiful text I've ever read."

"And the saddest..."

"I needed to have something... have a part of William... with me..."

 

She does not say anything. Neither does he. They simply stare at each other for several moments. She tightens her hold on his hands, and then he unclasps their hands and leans forward to hug her. She thinks back to how he always carried a photo of Samantha in his wallet; now, she can understand.

 

"This is our struggle." She whispers. He closes his eyes above her shoulder, fighting back his emotions in the back of his throat. "Yeah," he murmurs.

 

As they stay comforting each other, hugging and cuddling, Mulder's cell phone starts ringing. He softly loosens his embrace and walks toward his jacket.

 

"Doggett," he says to Scully reading the phone's locked screen. Then he answers and sets the phone on speaker. "Hey, you're on speaker; Scully's here with me."

"Hi! I've been doing some digging as you wanted, asked a few questions around. And I think I got something that might interest you. I'm not sure it's exactly what you were looking for, but it's odd enough to be discussed. Can we meet?"

"Sure! We're flying to New York tomorrow night, is that good for you?"

"Not tomorrow night, no, but the day after, anytime you'd like."

 

They agree on meeting for lunch in the same restaurant they met a few months back and hang up. That phone call has cheered Mulder up a little. Focusing on something else, where he is able to actually do something has always been a positive distraction from anything unpleasant. But as he looks back at her, he sees it does not work that easily with her. He sits back on the bed by her side and wraps his arm around her.

 

"You okay? What can I do to cheer you up? Still is a beautiful spot out there. And I'm still here — if it's any comfort."

"It is, Mulder." And she means it. His presence and his strength have always served to reassure her, and even in her darkest times, such as when she was battling cancer or coping with personal grief, he has always inspired her to fight back and not give up. He has always been her shelter, her rock. And he is right; there are so many beautiful things to see and do out here. 

 

******

 

NEW-YORK CITY — 2 DAYS LATER

 

Mulder, Scully and Doggett are sitting at the same table as they were when they last met. They have just ordered their meals when Doggett begins to explain how he managed to obtain what might be a lead to some useful information.

 

"I started by writing down a list of guys who served with me in the Bravo Company. All of them, not just the ones I used to hang out with the most. I then found out that more than half of them were dead. They didn't die in Iraq, though; they died here, in the US. That freaked me out especially when I tried to gain access to their autopsy reports. Every time I typed a guy's name, an 'Access Denied — Classified' screen popped up. So then I tried to find the contact information from the living ones, and that, at least, wasn't too hard to obtain. I called a few guys unsuccessfully until I got to talk to Rod Sand. Rod sounded freaked out, totally paranoid. He said he was being followed all the time, and couldn't speak over the phone and offered to meet me."

 

Mulder and Scully listen to him without interrupting. He continues.

 

"The guy sounded like a psycho! He sent me from A to B, then C to D and so on until we met in a dark alley. The meeting was brief. He said that he had looked for the Bravo guys too and when he found out that most were dead, like me, he started digging. He said he wasn't cautious and that he was threatened. He didn't know by whom. He found out that among our dead pals, two thirds died out of an unknown illness and the last third he believed were murders disguised as accidents. He told me what I was doing was lethally dangerous and my life — or my wife's — would be threatened too if I wasn't extremely discreet. He said he believed the guys who died from illness got sick because of the vaccination we all got, back when we were sent to Iraq. He thought something triggered it and caused their deaths, perhaps triggered because they were being noisy or nosy."

"Does he have any proof of what he claims? Can we meet him?" Mulder asks, lowering his voice for the other customers.

"He found one piece of proof. But no, you can't meet him, he died the next week."

"Oh my God!" Scully says.

"I didn't know what to do with what he'd told me until I learned that three days ago he was killed in a car accident."

"But you don't believe that" Mulder knows.

"No, I don't. Rod told me that the evidence was _in_ him, and that he had had his blood tested." He pauses and turns to Scully. "I want you to test mine, Dana. You're the only one I can trust on this."

 

Mulder spins his head to her face as she whispers "Of course, I will." 

 

******

 

MULDER AND SCULLY'S HOUSE — APRIL 2011

 

Mulder welcomes Doggett on the porch and they both walk inside. While Mulder takes some beers from the fridge, Scully welcomes him and tells him he should not have bother coming down here. But he had already booked his tickets.

"I didn't find any abnormalities in your blood, John. But that doesn't necessarily mean anything, good or bad. The truth is, we don't know what we're looking for. It could be a hormone, a poison, a virus... Some poisons can't be detected in blood, and the same goes with thyroid hormone resistance for instance. Viruses cannot be detected either using blood culture bottles designed to grow bacteria. Several types of tests may be used to check for viruses: antibody test, viral antigen detection test, viral culture, viral DNA or RNA detection test. But for this, to know which test to perform, you have to know what you're looking for first."

"So, you need more than blood."

"And something to look for, yes. I'm sorry. It's most likely that what we're looking for — if they really injected you with something — is dormant. Because it was done decades ago. Also, virus latency is the ability of a pathogenic virus to lie dormant within a cell. Latency is the phase in certain viruses' life cycles in which, after initial infection, proliferation of virus particles ceases. However, the viral genome is not eradicated. The result of this is that the virus can reactivate and begin producing large amounts of viral progeny without the host being infected by new outside viruses and it stays within the host indefinitely."

"If it really is a dormant virus, where could it be hiding?"

"Virtually anywhere! There are different types of latency. One of them is proviral: a virus genome that is integrated into the DNA of a host cell, it enters the nucleus and stay there as long as the cell lives. HIV is one example."

"And then? What would trigger it?"

"It could be various factors, like if the host is sick, stressed out or rundown and the immune system isn't at 100%. It could also be an exposure to something. Very hard to tell and to be specific."

"Scully, remember that the Syndicate initially conducted a trial run of bees that carried smallpox, and then bees carrying the alien virus. An alien virus you were infected with." Mulder says.

"Are you suggesting that they infected the Bravo company to an alien virus through a vaccine, Mulder?" Doggett asks. " That's insane! Why would they do then? Why the military?"

"Why would that be insane? The Cabal has been doing research and experiments for decades, ever since the Roswell incident in 1947. I wasn't completely honest with you before, Doggett: I found that they want— they might want to start colonization next year, on December 22."

Doggett is silent for a moment. "You don't really believe that, do you?" He finally asks Scully. She gives him a poor smile as a response, honestly uncertain whether or not she does. She _has_ been infected with something before.

Mulder continues. "What if— What if more than the Bravo have been infected with something? Just like they experimented with the suddenly eradicated smallpox virus? Something dormant? Something that could be triggered next year?"

"No hard feelings Mulder but this is ridiculous!" Doggett scoffs. "Why would a group of men try to destroy men over... well aliens! There, I said it!"

"Why did half your company die, Doggett? Who's hiding what? And why?"

"Wow! Don't know what to say, guys. I was expecting a cover up of some kind. I thought we were looking for something the Department of Defense did... Not this!"

"Think back, Doggett! Remember 2009? Remember the H1N1 outbreak? Within only a few weeks, the flu pandemic was worldwide! People started to gather in lines to get vaccinated! Hundreds of thousands of people! Millions of doses where produced in record time! Where did they come from?"

"Maybe I could still get a hold of a vaccine and get it analyzed." Scully suggests.

"That'd be a great start!"

"But it may take a little time if you don't want to draw attention." Doggett warns.

"He's right, you'll have to be extra careful, Scully."

 

******

 

Later that night, Scully cannot sleep. Lying in bed, staring at the wall, she is thinking about all that has been said and the assumptions Mulder has made. Could any of those be true? As a doctor, she had been injected with the H1N1 vaccine, and she had suggested to Mulder that he get the shot too, which he did. What might those vaccines had contained? Could the world really come to an end next year?

 

"I can feel you thinking." Mulder gently says in her back.

"I'm sorry, I can't sleep..."

"And I'm having déjà vu..." He sets his head in the curves of her neck and spoons her. "What's the matter?"

"I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

"Of what you said."

"It was just speculation."

"For now! But what if it's true? What if they actually contaminated a whole part of humankind?"

"When we know that for a fact, we'll consider our options. For now, we don't. I didn't even have the time to think this through; it just came to me out of nowhere. Doggett's skepticism bugged me."

"I was like him once."

"No you weren't! You never wore a tie. And I always loved your shoes and skirts more."

She stifles a laugh, "You know what I mean."

"And you know I mean what I said. And I also loved your butt and your breasts more."

"Did you?" She turns around to face him.

"Cross my heart!" He makes the swift sign above his heart. Then he gives her a quick kiss on the lips and looks down at her chest. "Especially...," he pauses while opening her robe with one finger and some of his fingertips brush against her skin. "... this one. Or maybe this one, hard to tell really." Scully smiles at him. "Nah! They're both equally beautiful." He looks back at her. She is still smiling.

"Touch me again."

 

He raises a brow and stares at her for a second, unmoving. Then he unbuttons her pajama top and delicately cuddles her breasts with both of his large hands. Their eyes are locked on one another. His hands are hot, as always. She welcomes this heat as he draws circles on her curves. His movements are slow, gentle and tender. Just as amorously, he pinches one of her tits. It gives her a shiver and she closes her eyes. He closes the distance and starts licking her lower lip. She opens her month and they begin kissing. He slithers his hands along the edges of her ribcage until he raises himself over her, hands supporting himself behind her on the mattress and he slides on top of her while continuing to kiss her. Once he is settled there, his naked torso against her opened robe, she bends her legs on the sides of his waist and then runs her hands under his pajama pants down to his buttocks. Eventually he begins to slide his groin along hers up and down.

She slides her hands up along his back, caressing his shoulders, biceps and forearms. He leans his weight on his elbows to take hers hands, crossing his fingers with hers, palms to palms, and then captures them against the mattress. Then he kisses her neck, her breasts and her belly. She feels the sensual heat of his breath descend along her body.

She loves him in every way a woman can love a man. But she feels blessed that he is such a good and tender lover, always knowing what she needs, what she wants. And now she just wants to be his. Forever his. As he continues to descend along her, he squeezes her hands tighter and drags them along with him. She tilts her head up as his mouth arrives to her pubis. He licks her vagina up to her clitoris and she begins to inhale and exhale deeply. When he begins to penetrate her with his tongue, she tilts her head back more, arching her back. She tightens her hands in his. She loves the way he touches her, whether he does it with his hands, his lips, his tongue or any other part of him. She knows that tonight he wants to be in control, so she lets him even if she would love to touch him too.

As if he has heard her, he loosens her hands free. She runs them back along his arms, strokes his shoulders and the nape of his neck before her hands lose themselves in his hair. Then he supports himself on his hands again and moves up to her face to kiss her. His sex is fully erect now. He slides his pajamas under his buttocks and she can feel him caressing her up and down with his cock without penetrating her. She spreads her legs as an invitation. They do not often do the missionary position, although she loves to feels his weight on her. She puts a hand on his sex to urge him in and removes her hand. He penetrates her thoroughly several times. The rhythm of the thrusts increases progressively. God, they are so good together. As their kiss ceases and he straightens a little, she sets her hands on his pectorals, caresses them down to his abs. He is in great shape for a middle aged man, she thinks. Her fingertips feel the muscles of his amazing six pack contracting.

He caresses her legs and moves one of his hands under one of her legs, lifts it and places it on his shoulder. He kisses it and repeats with her other leg. He places his hands on the top of her thighs, pressing them against his front and pulls her to him on each strike. She feels him deeper in her, like he found her G-spot. She tries to relax her legs on his shoulders. After a few minutes of incredible pleasure, his hands slides under the small of her back. He lifts her hips and slides his joined knees below her ass. Scully licks her lips. He possesses her, fucks her, she moans, she gasps, she would like to hold on to his shoulders, to plant her nails into his flesh, but they are too far away. She melts into him, his will in hers, she has no more problems or worries, there is nothing but sensuality and desire, nothing but him, nothing but them. Their pulses race. Oh God, she needs to touch him. Once more, he understands her feelings without speaking them. He gently takes her hands and pulls her to him. He whispers sweet words in her ear. They smile, accomplices, lovers. Then he holds her against him, hugs and cuddles her, and he slides his legs, lengthens them. She rides him now, but he is still in control.

The speed of his movements makes her breasts sway to the rhythm of her hips that he lifts up and down onto him, and she feels his burning hands on her. She lets out little cries as he moans. A few powerful strokes in her and they almost come at the same time, his member in her, the most beautiful of pleasures, the perfect orgasm. While their pulses slow and their breathings regulate, she put his head on her shoulder and caresses his hair. She gently rises, allowing him out. Though exhausted, he has a lovely content smile drawn on his face. She collapses back on the bed. He leans in to kiss her, goes to the bathroom to wash briefly and returns to lie next to her. She is already almost asleep, but she feels his kiss on her cheek, and, without opening her eyes, she takes his hand for him to wrap around her and murmurs "Good night, my heart." He spoons her and covers them both with the sheets. 

 

******


	10. TO THE POINT OF INSANITY

CHAPTER 10. TO THE POINT OF INSANITY  
OUTSIDE PHARMACEUTICA PARTNERS' BUILDING — JULY 2011

 

Mulder is eating sunflower seeds behind the steering wheel. His car is parked not far from an impressive and modern building. He is wearing dark clothes. It is close to sunset when he calls Scully's number.

 

"Hey, it's me!"

"Where are you, Mulder?"

"Pharmaceutica Partners."

"What? No, Mulder! Don't do this, please, this is crazy! We'll find another way."

"No, Scully, you've tried. I don't want you to get any more involved. I can't risk that."

"We can try something else; call Skinner, and ask for a warrant."

"And expose ourselves."

 

For the last three months, Scully has tried to gain access to something or someone within Pharmaceutica Partners, one of the companies that developed the H1N1 vaccine in 2009. In vain. It has been very difficult, now that the Gunmen are not here, to access certain Intel. She has tried using some other purpose, she has tried to require their help on another matter, and she has shown interest in their research department. But every time, she has to wait a certain amount of time to go back again, so as not to draw attention.

 

"Mulder, don't. You'll get arrested as soon as you set foot inside!"

"I _have_ to try this, Scully. We don't have that much time. I love you. I'll be fine. I'll talk to you as soon as I can!" He hangs up on her and puts away the phone in the glove compartment.

"Muld—" She tries to call him.

 

Scully puts her cell on the kitchen table. She stands still, thinking, pressing her hands against her month. There is this feeling in her gut that something bad is going to happen and she has no clue what she should do to prevent that from happening. She picks up her phone and calls him, whispering "Pick up please, Mulder".

 

******

 

She is holding her phone between her ear and her shoulder when she gets inside her car. "Mulder, it's me! If you get this, I'm on my way to you. Please, wait for me and don't do anything stupid! Call me back." She ends the call, puts the key in the ignition and starts driving.

 

******

 

She has been driving for half an hour in the night on a long deserted countryside road when her cell phone rings. "Unknown" shows up on the screen. She answers anyway.

 

"Dana?" A woman asks.

"Yes, who is this?"

"Dana, you need to turn around."

"I'm sorry, who is this!?"

"They're coming after you."

"Who is? Who is this??"

"Turn around, Dana! Go back home now! You're in danger! They're coming for you!" The mysterious woman ends the conversation and hangs up.

 

Scully looks in the rearview mirror. A car is following her. But then again, it could be just another person going back to their home. Who was this woman and what was that all about? How did she even know what Scully was up to? How long have they been spied on? She wants to try Mulder again, but wonders if her phone is bugged.

Before she knows it, a car crosses the road and stops there, blocking her way. She slams both feet on the brake pedal, drawing a long black smocking line on the asphalt. She promptly turns to look behind; the car that seemed to be following her is closing the distance. A motorbike passes it with high speed. She sharply looks back ahead, trying to figure out if she can pass ahead of that blocking car, or where she should drive to get out of this trap. The only thing that comes to mind is to call for help. Her phone fell forward from the passenger seat when she stopped the car abruptly. She hurries to pick it up, sits back up and looks back again while searching through her contacts. The motorbike is getting closer by the second.

 

"John, it's Dana, I've been trapped! Call Mulder! I'm on—" is all she can say. The next second, the bike stops by her window, and a guy sitting behind the driver breaks the glass from her window with the handle of a tranquilizer gun. He then targets her and shoots a dart syringe. She almost instantly falls unconscious. The guy withdraws the syringe and the bike flies away.

 

******

 

Meanwhile, inside Pharmaceutica Partners, Mulder has no clue about the events that have just taken place. He is picking a lock, kneeling and looking around him. He looks back up behind him. A video camera is spinning back and forth slowly and soon he is going to be in its view. He bites his lip and anxiously works faster until the door finally opens. He hurries inside and closes the door behind him, leaning back onto it and sliding along it down to the ground.

He presses the button of his flashlight on and carefully directs the light toward the ceiling, looking for more video cams. He spots two and retracts the light from them, studying their movements and speeds. Once he has memorized their rhythm, he lowers his flashlight to brighten the inside of the room.

This is an archives storage room, one huge room similar to the one Mulder visited when he was looking for a cure to Scully's cancer.

After a good thirty minutes worth of investigating, he exits the building by the delivery storehouse area. He keeps a low profile and runs to his car. He exhales with relief when he climbs back into it.

He opens the glove compartment and grabs his phone. There are about a million missed calls from Scully, one voicemail, one call from Doggett, and one unknown caller. He starts with Scully and gets her voicemail message. He leaves a brief reassuring message and calls his own voicemail. He hears Scully telling him that she is coming to meet him. Damn it! Before calling Doggett back, he reaches into his pocket and takes out a tiny cardboard package. It has a sticker on it and among the other labels, one can read "H1N1". He is pulled from his thoughts when his phone starts ringing. He looks at the screen before answering.

 

"Hey! I was going to call you back."

"Mulder, something happened to Dana!"

"What!?" He asks while starting the car, wedging the phone against his shoulder.

"I had a brief phone call about an hour ago. She was frantic, terrified! Said she'd been trapped."

"What do you mean 'trapped'?"

"I don't know Mulder! I'm in New York! I don't even know what she was up to!"

"How d—?"

"Mulder, hold on, I found her! She's just been brought to Howard County General Hospital in Columbia" He interrupts him.

"What's her condition?" He worries.

"I don't know."

"Thanks," he says before hanging up.

 

While speeding erratically, Mulder violently smacks the wheel. Then he calms down and pulls up the map application on his cell. He takes a look, and then finds the hospital number on the Internet and calls. 

 

******


	11. BUT NOT AT THE EXPENSE OF EVERYTHING

CHAPTER 11. BUT NOT AT THE EXPENSE OF EVERYTHING  
HOWARD COUNTY GENERAL HOSPITAL, COLUMBIA, MD — JULY 2011, SAME NIGHT

 

Mulder rushes through the hospital doors and promptly finds a nurse who directs him to Scully's room. He enters, relieved to see her sitting in her bed, and closes the door behind him. He sits on the edge of the bed, captures her hand in both of his and kisses it. She has an IV in her other arm.

 

"You Okay? What happened?"

"You tell me, Mulder! I tell you I'm on my way to talk you out of getting into trouble and the next thing I know, someone shoots me with a tranquilizer gun!"

"What were you injected with?!"

"They're running all kinds of tests to find out."

"How do you feel?"

"I feel fine. I passed out after they shot me but there was nothing to steal in my car, and if they wanted to get something from the house, they wouldn't have bothered. How 'bout you? Did you find it?"

"Yes."

"You did?"

"You doubted I would?"

"The world has changed, Mulder. It's not the 90's anymore, and you're not the dashing young man you used to be." She does not leave him the time to respond; she suddenly remembers and exclaims, "Oh! Almost forgot! I was warned just before the attack."

"How? By whom?"

"An anonymous call. A woman. She tried to warn me that something was about to happen and that I should turn around. Now that I think about it, she sounded familiar." He questions her silently. "I can’t remember exactly who she sounded like. Everything went nuts after she called..."

"The number didn't display?" As he asks the question, an idea pops into his head. She shakes her head no while he takes his phone and checks his missed calls. He shows her the phone.

"I certainly tried to reach you!" She jokes.

"Ah ha!" He points his finger to the "Unknown" line and asks her, "What time did she call you? Wanna bet she tried to reach me too?"

"I left home between 7:30 and 8, I guess, and I drove half an hour or so. So let's say between 8 and 9 at most."

"8:06," he reads on his phone. "Where's your phone?"

 

Scully shows him a pile of her stuff on a table in the corner of the room. He looks through the different items and brings the cell to her.

 

"8:22," she reads. "Do you think it's the same woman?"

"I don't believe in coincidences, Scully. Everyone who calls me is saved in my contacts. You know I'm not keen on giving out my number... especially to a woman."

"Why did she try to call you if someone was after me?" Scully tries to understand.

"She called me around the moment you left home," he realizes. Scully looks back at her phone while Mulder is still thinking out loud, and says, "I left home at 7:59, which was the last time I tried your cell and left the voicemail for you."

"That's it, Scully. So between 7:59 and 8:06, she somehow discovered you left the house to go and try to stop me."

"I don't get it... All that she said was that I was in danger. Are you implying she said so to prevent me from stopping you?"

"No, I don't know. Maybe you were the only target... but why?"

"And why did she contact you first?" Scully asks.

"Hold on... She's not with the guys who ambushed you!"

"Yet she knew."

"Could mean she doesn't agree, she's captive, she's undercover..."

 

A nurse knocks and enters without waiting for a response. Coldly she says to Mulder, "Visiting hours are over." She gets closer to the bed to check on Scully's IV.

 

"I've come a long way," he protests.

"Don't blame me. Hospital policy!"

He looks at Scully then back to the nurse and asks, "Does this rules also apply for fiancés?"

"Are you?" She looks at Scully this time, her hand on the hip like she has no time for jokes. And from the tone of her voice and her masculine features they do not really want to kid with her. Scully raises her left hand, showing off the ring, but the smile she gives seems so fabricated that Mulder can't imagine anyone would believe her. But the nurse turns around with an abrupt "fine" as she leaves.

 

Mulder turns to face her and grins. "You still owe me an answer on that matter by the way, Scully."

"You'll be the first to know, I promise."

 

Mulder then stands and takes off his jacket and shoes. He sends a quick text message to reassure Doggett and sets his phone on silent. Then he walks back to her and starts to climb into Scully's small bed with her.

 

"What do you think you're doing, Mulder?"

"Make some room for me, will ya?"

"Go home, Mulder, I'm fine!"

"I'm not going anywhere."

 

She turns to her side and he spoons her, both sharing the same pillow. He switches off the light. 

 

******

 

During the night, Scully begins to feel sick. And then suddenly she feels very nauseous. She takes Mulder's arm, removes it from around her waist and rushes to the bathroom, holding onto and pulling the IV pole. Mulder has always been a light sleeper, although he has been sleeping better since they began sharing a bed. Awakened now as well, he gets out of bed and softly knocks on the bathroom door.

 

"Can I come in?"

"Just a second, Mulder."

"I don't care if I see you vomit," he says softly.

"I do!" She argues. She bends over the toilet, ready to throw up again. And she does. The door is already ajar, so when he hears her, Mulder swiftly enters and holds her hair, smoothing it back for her. When she finishes, he takes a clean washcloth beside the sink and pours water on it. As he turns again to her, she collapses heavily on the floor, hitting her head in the fall. He calls her name and rushes to her, but she has lost consciousness.

 

He rushes to her, unplugs the IV drain tube on her hand, lifts her up by placing his arms under her knees and armpits, and takes her back to bed. He presses the red button emergency call for a nurse who takes less than a minute to arrive. Meanwhile, Mulder talks to Scully, worryingly calling her name and stroking her cheeks and hair. He has turned her to her side, in case she feels bad again, but she is not responding.

Mulder explains to the nurse how he doesn't understand what has just happened. Scully had been acting fine and also said she felt fine when she had fallen asleep a couple of hours ago. While he anxiously presses the nurse to do something, she puts a blood pressure cuff on Scully's arm and puts her stethoscope to her ears. She raises an index finger to ask him to be quiet so that she can listen. He steps backward.

 

"Her blood pressure dropped," she says while taking Scully's medical chart and a pen.

"What caused it?"

"Medications can cause low BP. So, in her case, we have to worry about what she was injected with. Let me find a doctor," she says while going out.

 

Mulder goes back to Scully's side.

 

"Hey," he manages to smile as she wakes up. "Don't get up! You lost consciousness. The nurse was just here and your blood pressure dropped." He takes extra cushions from the closet and puts them under her legs.

"Due to what?"

"She's sending a doctor now."

 

She rises a little to take her chart. He puts a hand on her shoulder to stop her and gives it to her.

 

"Mulder? I don't feel good..."

"Scully?" He moves closer and grasps her wrist to take her pulse.

"My head aches... I feel dizzy... Something's wrong with my eyes... I can't se—"

 

She closes her eyes and loses consciousness again. "Shit!" He says rushing outside and yelling for a nurse. He almost runs into the doctor, on his way to check on Scully.

 

"She just collapsed again! She said she was feeling dizzy, with a headache and problems seeing."

"Her blood work came back; it points to heavy metal poisoning: metallosis."

"Is it serious?"

"Yes."

 

Mulder stands at the end of the bed while the doctor checks her vitals. He lifts her eyelids to check her pupils and takes her pulse on her carotid. He tells Mulder they are going to monitor her.

 

"My colleagues are currently trying to identify the toxic elements, which must be completed before we begin the removal process. In the meantime, we are going to administer to her intravenous Vitamin C and replacement mineral infusions as well as metal chelating drugs," he explains as he writes down the medication on the chart.

 

Scully unexpectedly regains consciousness again as the doctor calls out for a nurse to bring the treatment.

 

"Hello, Miss Scully," the doctor says.

"What time is it?"

"'What time is it?' It's two in the morning," he says. "Do you know where you are?" He asks as Mulder nervously bites his lower lip.

"Yes, doctor, I know. What's wrong with me?"

"Possibly metallosis. We are looking into it; you're in good hands."

 

Scully does not answer. Instead, she looks up at Mulder. He is anxious, worried and powerless. Just what he hates the most, Scully thinks. Indeed, Mulder has a holy hatred for not being able to help, to act. He feels like running out to find an answer, a solution. And also, again, he feels responsible. If it were not for him, she would never have gotten herself into this. He feels like he is the one who did it to her. How many times before has she been in a hospital bed because of him? They stare at each other, silent, with saddened eyes. He blanches when he hears the vibrating sound of his phone onto the table.

 

"That's an odd hour for a call", remarks the doctor before leaving the room. "The nurse will be right in."

 

Mulder takes his phone and sees "Unknown" displayed on the screen. Since Scully is too weak, he does not let her know. He excuses himself and exits the room.

 

"Who are you?" He cuts to the point, already annoyed.

"A friend, Mulder," the woman admits.

"Do I know you? Does Scully?"

"I can't tell you that. But just listen to me! Whatever the doctors try to give her, whatever medications, you can't let her have them."

"What? Why?"

"I can't go into the details. But let's just say it'll alter her DNA and this must not happen. Her body can fight the poisoning on its own, and it probably already is, which can explain why she must be feeling sick right now."

"This is insane! We can't just do nothing!"

"Trust me; it's her best course of action. But she will be in pain for half a week. I'm sorry!"

"Tell me who you are! How do you know all this? What did they do to her? How did you get our phone numbers?"

"Leave the hospital, Mulder. The two of you."

"I know your voice."

"I've got to go!"

"HOLD ON!" He screams. He looks around sharply, sorry that he yelled. "You still there?" He whispers.

"Yes."

"I don't understand. If there is nothing we can do, why inject her with... whatever they injected her with... in the first place?"

"Because they knew that in combination with a treatment, it would alter her DNA."

"To what aim?"

Monica Reyes stays silent a few seconds, and then concludes, "Don't treat her." And she hangs up.

 

Mulder leans against the wall to think this through. He is not the kind of man to easily trust others. Actually, he does not trust anyone besides Scully; he even doubts himself sometimes. But this could be important. He wonders; should this "Unknown" woman be trusted? Is she really a friend? Or is she trying to destroy Scully? And — if he's not too egocentric to think so — thereby destroy him too? But again, if the mystery woman is not to be trusted, why bother warning them in the first place? He sighs with indecision. Could any of what she has just said really be true?

He puts his hand on the doorknob, takes a deep breath and goes back inside the small room. Scully turns her face to stare at him, questioning. He sits next to her, takes her hand, and squeezes it several times during the time it takes to repeat what the woman said on the phone. Scully listens without interfering. He shares his doubts, too, and asks for her opinion. But she seems too weak and her head hurts too much for her to do that. Then he tells her he believes they should listen to her, that he cannot think of any reason why the woman would have said all these things if it were not to protect Scully.

 

"I rely on you, Mulder," she murmurs when he has finished talking. "I trust your instincts to be right."

 

******

 

It had not been easy obtaining a discharge against medical advice. The doctor had called several colleagues to try to talk Mulder and Scully out of it. But they left anyway. Mulder has been hoping he was right to listen to the woman, praying he is not making the biggest mistake of his life.

He is driving back home now. Although he would like to drive faster, he stays under the speed limit, afraid that Scully might faint again or feeling nauseous. He constantly looks at her. God bless America for automatic cars; his hand can rest safely on her knee. It is not the way he likes to have it though. Tonight, his hand is like a radar for her health.

 

"You should sleep, it's late," he gently advises.

She turns her face up to him. "I think I will."

 

Then he shifts to his right, so that he can be closer to her, and he bends his arm. The hand that was on her knee is now caressing her right cheek, pulling Scully gently in so she can lean on him. When her head rests on his shoulder, he gives her a kiss on the forehead. For the rest of the trip, he keeps his hand on her face. His beloved.

 

******

 

MULDER AND SCULLY'S HOUSE — THE NEXT WEEK

 

Mulder is sprawled on the sofa before a muted TV. He vaguely stares at the sealed glass H1N1 vaccine capsule that he holds between his finger and thumb. For the last few days, Scully has been through a lot of pain, and he knows it's all because of this. When Margaret had stopped by two days ago after he had called her to let her know what happened, he felt more than ever like... He sighs. He can't even think of a word for how he had felt when he had to tell her that her daughter had been hurt again. Because of him. Again. But Margaret, as always, had not blamed him. Unlike her eldest son, she had never blamed him for putting her daughter in danger. He sighs again, this time with gratitude. Margaret Scully is such a great woman, he thinks. In that most horrible situation, when he should have been comforting her, she had been the one comforting him.

He wishes now that he had thought this through before. He wishes he had known what other options he had back then. He wishes he knew what other options he had now. Because there's no way in hell that he's going to ask Scully to examine this sample. He remembers back to a time Scully raised her voice at him. "You'll pursue a case at the expense of everything, to the point of insanity, and expect me to follow you." It has been sixteen years since she threw those words at him, but he has been recalling them on a regular basis ever since because they were so true. But not this time. As badly as he does not want to give up on this, as quickly as the clock is ticking, he has made a promise to himself... at the expense of everything... but her. Mulder groans. He's in a damn deadlock. He hates this!

Thankfully on the other hand, just like the "Unknown" woman had promised, Scully's condition has begun to improve, although Scully is now exhausted from fighting the mysterious poisoning.

While Scully has been resting and recovering, he has turned the whole house inside out, looking for a bug of some kind, something that could help explain the mysterious woman's foreknowledge. But he has found nothing. He has concluded that there is no use in moving away, because there is no place on earth nowadays where one can hide forever. He has been more careful when talking over the phone. Paranoia has always been a second skin to him, but now...

For the last few days, he has also been sleeplessly working, trying to connect all the dots. The End Game, the Super Soldiers — and possibly their son William —, the Bravo guys' deaths, the military cover up, the vaccine contamination — smallpox and possibly H1N1 —, the Mayan prophecy... Also he wonders who was that "Unknown" woman and what was her role in all this? A major source of his frustration is not being able to understand the big picture. Something is missing. He wishes for the hundredth time for the woman to contact him again, as he ponders how much more she may know.

 

Mulder puts the little vial back in its cardboard package and then gets up and puts it in his jeans pocket. He paces nervously, sits in front of his computer, drums his fingers on the table, and stands back up.  
He enters their bedroom where Scully is peacefully sleeping. He takes a pair of shorts in a drawer and he writes a note that he leaves on the nightstand: "Went running, BRB. Love, M." 

 

******

 

When Mulder comes back, Scully is awake and eating some leftover chicken. That cheers him up a little. But he does not say anything, does not dare to go too close to her. She knows he feels responsible for what happened to her, but she has not offered to exonerate him and that leaves him feeling more guilty than ever. Which he probably is for the most part, he admits. It is not going to be easy to wash it all away. He asks her how she feels. She is better, she says. The conversation is odd and distant. So is the rest of the day.

Mulder cannot figure out if leaving her would help. This night, he waits for Scully to fall asleep and goes to the couch, like he has done since before they came back from the hospital. Every time, he has gone back to bed early in the morning before Scully wakes. But tonight, he is thinking about not going back. In fact, he is thinking about leaving the house. Tonight. Scully is obviously out of danger now even though they still do not really know what happened, medically speaking.

He passes his hands through his hair and sighs heavily; a few tears fall on his cheeks. He unfolds and re-reads Scully's letter to William. Now he weeps. He grabs a sheet of paper and a pen, clears his eyes and starts writing.

When Scully wakes up in the morning, Mulder is long gone. She finds his letter on the coffee table. 

 

******

 

Monica Reyes is standing behind a closed door in a dark hallway of an old house. She is trying to listen to the conversation that is taking place in the room behind the door.

 

"Tell me how it is possible that the remainder of these vaccines have not been destroyed?" A man asks.

"It's nothing to worry about," CSM says, reassuringly.

"Francisco Ekangminio Peluna has learned that your little protégés have been nosy, very nosy actually. He _is_ worried! He's threatened to expose us, to tell the media that a conspiracy of men is intending to use the Mayan prophecy... How is it that they even got access to the vaccines?"

"He's not going to do anything. And neither will Mulder and Scully. They know too little."

"They seem to know a lot to me! And we have to consider Peluna's threat. "

"I'll take care of it... when the time comes." 

 

******


	12. POLARITY MAGNETISM

CHAPTER 12. POLARITY MAGNETISM  
MULDER AND SCULLY'S HOUSE — AUGUST 2011

 

Scully is crying in the shower. She has not bothered calling Mulder. It would not do any good because she knows he will have thought this through. His computer is gone; most of his clothes and toiletries are too, so it is clear that he very deliberately made the decision to leave. Her throat constricts involuntarily. He left, she realizes, because he wants to finish his journey. Without her. She draws in a deep breath as the steam pools around her face and she wishes she could think of the words to say to bring him back, to convince him to slow down, to at least let her help him. Because it is dangerous. And because she wants to be with him.

Pushing those last thoughts away, she instead turns to her comfort zone: the science. She is still not quite sure whether she has been infected because of Mulder or because of what _she_ might have found within the vaccine. But she feels that they must have threatened her specifically because she is a scientist and doctor. And this tells her that if they were together, they would be closer to the truth.

Turning off the shower, she briskly towels off and thinks ahead to the day's agenda. She tries to motivate herself to move today, to get something done. No sense in moping around all day.

The window behind her is open and it is a beautiful morning. The sun is still low but birds are already singing. She looks out the window, and again her mind wanders in spite of herself. This field. She loves it. How many times has she taken a walk there with him? This is all it takes; the small yet treasured details of their life together come flooding back to her, the littleness that makes their greatness. After all these years, they were still kissing and cuddling like teenagers. Still having sex nearly every day. Still talking for hours and wanting to be together. Still writing "I love you" in the steam of the shower glass... Well, she admits, except for last year's breakup episode, but it didn't last.

And although she understands that all of that may be over, she even now, cannot resist the need to text him: "I know what you're up to, but don't. Let me help. Together we're stronger. Miss you. Love, Dana." She does not expect an answer.

 

******

 

SEPTEMBER 2011

 

It has been four weeks since Mulder left. He has only texted her once, just to say that he was alright. She, on the other hand, has been sending him lots of messages. Neither one of them has ever tried to call. She has been working close to sixteen hours a day, every day, only leaving work to sleep at home. And each day, she practices Mulder's habit of falling asleep to the sound of the TV. It is the only way she knows how to fill the space that he has left. And this, she realizes, is the summation of her life now: work and sleep. The only time she has deviated from this new routine has been to visit her mother twice, sleeping over each time and drawing too much comfort in sharing a roof with another person. Otherwise, her only source of conversation these last few weeks has been related to patients and their medical cases.

One day, she enters his office and counts the little marks engraved on the back of the door. She counts to fifty before stopping, only now understanding what it must have been like for him in this too silent house. Just twenty-two days into her own sentence, she cannot stand it anymore.

On a different day, when she arrives home from work, she has realized that he had been at the house for some reason while she was out. His scent still lingers in the kitchen and when she walks in, it almost makes her collapse.

In an instant, she makes a decision: this empty house is making her sick to her stomach. She has to get out of it.

She throws a suitcase open on the bed and opens closets and drawers to fill it. She pauses in front of the remainder of Mulder's clothes. She spies his Knicks tee shirt, surprised that he has left it behind — unable to imagine that he might have left it for her on purpose —, and inhales his scent deeply. Then she puts it in the bag with her own clothes. When it is full, she vaguely stares into it. Then, suddenly, she closes it and throws open another one. She finds an empty box in the kitchen and fills it with half a dozen pairs of shoes.

Once her trunk is full, she texts a new message to Mulder: "House is all yours. Moving out. Hope you're well. X, D." Then, she flees.

 

******

 

The motel room in which Mulder has been residing is a mess. Open books and loose papers are strewn on the floor, the unmade bed and the desk. Mulder has cleared a small place on the floor and leans against the bed. His beard has grown. Dressed with a pair of jeans folded on the calves, bare chest and feet, he wears his glasses to read a newspaper article. A notebook is on the ground nearby and he takes notes.

His phone vibrates on the bedside table and he immediately reaches to grab it. When he sees it is a message from Scully, he stands, letting the journal in his lap slide to the floor. His eyes are glued to his phone. After he reads the message, he removes his glasses and walks to the window. He pushes the curtain aside and looks outside. There are a few cars parked in the parking lot and a young couple taking a bag of ice back to their room.

 

******

 

Scully is just parking in front of a real estate agency when her phone rings. She switches off the ignition and answers.

 

"Hey," she says. Her voice sounds strange to her ears.

"Hey. I'm sorry I haven't called."

"It's okay, Mulder. I'm sure you had your reasons."

"So... you're moving out?"

"Yeah. I can't stand being there anymore..." She pauses. They are both silent. Then she asks. "Do you have a few minutes? Can we talk?"

"Yeah... Sure..."

"How's your work going?"

"It's been... evasive, scattered. I've been absentminded."

"How come?"

"9/11 tenth anniversary for a start... FYI, I do believe there's a conspiracy and a cover-up of the terrorist attacks by the U.S. government... And then there's my book about the X-Files... I'm almost finished with it."

"Are you saying you're going back home?"

"I don't... know..."

"Mulder, can we meet?" He does not answer, then she insists. "I worry about you." She forces her voice to steady as she continues, "And I miss you badly."

"Scully, I—" He misses her atrociously too. But he can't! He cannot put her through all this.

"Mulder, please...," she begs.

 

There is another uncomfortable silence. Then he tells her the motel name and room number, and she thanks him. They end the conversation and Scully enters the real estate agency.

 

******

 

Two hours later, Mulder's room is cleaned up... except for the huge pile of sheets on the desk. He dons a polo as she knocks on the door. He opens it wide and she remains on the threshold, giving him a tired smile. He smiles too, then he takes a step toward her, and invites her in by pulling her inside with one hand on her elbow. Before he closes the door, his eyes wander around the parking lot.

 

"Do you want a beer or something? Or go out and grab something to eat?" He offers.

"I'm fine, thank you," she answers while looking around the place.

 

Mulder moves past her and sits down on the edge of the bed. He clasps his hands together nervously. Scully looks down at him and eventually sits down at the desk in the corner of the room.

 

"So? Tell me, what's with this place, Mulder?"

"What? You don't like it?"

"No, it's just..."

"Well." He shrugs as if to say; this is the place whatever the reason.

"You didn't have to leave," she continues.

"I felt I did."

"Perfect timing!" She loses ironically. He looks up at her sharply. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you're right. And it was the hardest thing I've ever done."

"Is it worth it so far?" She presses him as she takes note of the stacks of paperwork in front of her.

"How can it be?"

"What did you do with the vaccine?"

"I— Nothing."

"You're kidding."

"No."

"Give it to me!"

"No."

"Let me help you!"

"Scully, no."

"Mulder, you ditched me!"

"Damn it! That is not how I feel!"

"That is how you act!"

"Well, fuck, Scully! It's life then! I guess it's hard sometimes, you just gonna have to deal with it!"

"I am trying to deal with it! That's why I'm having this conversation with you!"

 

Mulder gets up and walks quickly toward her. He grabs her by the hand and pulls her up to him. She tries to retreat but he holds her back, embracing her with one hand on her back and the other on the nape of her neck.

 

"What do you want from me, Scully?" He asks softly into her hair. "I can't just quit now..."

"I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to look at yourself. I'm asking you to trust my judgment. To trust me."

He tilts his head back, just enough so that they can look into each other's eyes. He shakes his head no and tightens his jaw. "I can't," he whispers. "Any story with me at the center of it will never be anything less than a big smiling mess. Well, hardly smiling! But a mess for sure. Scully, this is who I am."

"And where does this leave me?"

"I need time."

"Mulder, you're losing it!"

"Scully, what do you want?"

"To know that you're alright." She catches sight of half a dozen empty beer bottles in the nearby trash bin. "Are you still taking your medication?" She asks.

"I don't have a prescription anymore."

"Mulder...," she worries.

"I feel fine, Scully."

"You look exhausted, Mulder."

"I feel fine," he repeats. 

"You've lost motivation, ideals, and hope. You produce nothing but helplessness and hopelessness." She does not say it, but he looks so detached, she even worries that he has come to believe life is not worth living.

"You should go..."

"Mulder, this is insane!"

"Sometimes the only sane answer to an insane world is insanity."

"Why do you take out your frustrations on me?"

 

Mulder has opened the door and is waiting for her to leave, staring at the floor before throwing her a warning gaze. Scully writes a prescription and walks toward the door. He puts his hand to his forehead wearily.

She stops in front of him and gently grasps his upper arm.

 

"Frequent headaches, back pain, muscle aches? Changes in appetite or sleep habits? Sense of failure and self-doubt? Feelings of helplessness, a sensation of being trapped and/or defeated, using alcohol to cope...? There's a name for this, Mulder: burnout. Do you want more symptoms?"

"Just go...," he whispers, tired.

"Please promise to call me. You can't be alone right now..."

"I'll call you," he agrees. She stares at him, willing him to meet her gaze. She wants assurance. She opens her eyes wider and raises her eyebrows to signal for confirmation. He nods, closes his eyes and gently glues his lips on her forehead for a few seconds. Scully closes her eyes too; her heartbeat races now. When he withdraws his mouth, she looks up at him, wondering if there is more to it. But he grits his teeth, crosses his arms above his chest and stares the floor again, waiting for her to leave. She feels like she has just been on a very bad first date. She sighs and quickly caresses his forearm, gives him the prescription and goes. "Call me. Anytime."

 

******

 

OCTOBER 13, 2011

 

October 13th. She remembers that last year on this date, they were at this exact same point; apart. Scully briefly wonders if it means anything but then instantly refutes the idea. She and Mulder are meant to be together. This is a truth that she has known for a long time, notwithstanding the amount of time it originally took for her to realize it.

The month before, he had promised to call. And he has, but not as often as she wishes he would. When they talked on the phone last week, she had reminded him that he was turning fifty years old and that she wanted to spend the day with him. Today. He has agreed. She has not seen him since that horribly awkward meeting in the motel, although she has hinted that she would like to. He seems to be drowning, descending deeper and deeper into loneliness. As far as his work has gone, he has learned nothing that would help to stop or even understand the End Game. He has moved back to their house last week though, so she is hopeful that this is a sign of progress.

 

"So, what are you up to, Doc?" He asks as she walks up their porch.

"Vikings versus Redskins, Mulder. You and me. Let's get going birthday boy, we're heading to DC!"

"Football, Scully? Really?"

"Yeah! Why not?" She smiles with forced cheerfulness and looks up at him. Then she takes his hand and drags him to the car. "You wanna take the wheel?" She hopes that giving him control might help.

"Sure," he smiles.

 

They both enter the car and put their seatbelts. Before turning the ignition, Mulder gazes at her and she smiles back awkwardly.

 

"No more beard?" She notices while touching his cheek with her petite hand. He lays his hand on hers, captures it on his face, and closes his eyes. He slides her palm to his lips and plants a kiss. A rush of emotions flood through her, and her heart is beating so fast and loud that she imagines he can hear it. She reaches for his face with her other hand.

 

"I'm sorry...," he begins sobbing.

"Mulder... Don't worry..." She fights her own feelings, trying to stay strong. She envelops his face with her hands and pulls him to her chest. He leans reluctantly over the central armrest and she thrusts her face in the curve of his neck, thumbing his hair. "I'm sorry...," he cries, tears sliding down his face. She closes her eyes and shushes him tenderly. Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat.

"It's okay, honey, let it out," she whispers while faintly swaying him. "If you close your eyes and listen for the whisper of your heart — if you simply keep trying and never ever give up, no matter how many times you get it wrong, there's a good chance that, just like now, you'll find hope again. And me." He lets out an incongruous guffawing.

 

He straightens on his seat and sniffs. Then he stares at her and she wipes away his tears. She opens the glove compartment and takes out a package of sunflower seeds.

 

"Let's go and enjoy our day, Mulder," she says and hands it to him.

 

******

 

During the long ride, his hand lies on her knee and her hand is on his. They barely talk but they silently enjoy being together again. Mulder has stuck the little pack of sunflower seeds between his legs to snatch a few every once in a while as he drives.

It is noon when Mulder stops the car in the stadium parking garage. He gently squeezes Scully's hand to wake her; she has fallen asleep somewhere along the road. Looking over at the strong and beautiful woman sleeping peacefully beside him, he marvels that again he has been given another chance. Until this moment, he had not realized just how desperately he missed her and how badly damaged he had been without her. It is clear now that he should have listened to her weeks ago and opened up to her; he knows that they are stronger together than apart, and not just as partners. He realizes that he should have stopped running, that she is his anchor and his sanity and everything good in his life. It doesn't matter to him what they do today, just as long as he can hold her hand. And not let go.

 

She stirs, feeling his warm touch on her arm. "We're here," he smiles at her.

"Oh no! Did I fall asleep?" She genuinely apologizes.

"It's alright!" He chortles. "You hungry?"

"Yeah, a little, I guess."

"Hot dog?"

"Sure."

 

They get out of the car and start walking toward the stadium. Mulder uses the excuse of an approaching car to take her hand and pull her to him. He lets go of her hand but wraps his arm around her shoulder as they keep walking.

 

******

 

The stadium is about half full when Mulder and Scully take their seats. There is music blaring, people talking, kids screaming, vendors yelling... and in the midst of the chaos, they sit, eating their sandwiches.

 

"You've got a little...", Mulder tells Scully when they are finished eating and he sees a little ketchup on her cheek. He licks his thumb and cleans her face with it. She grins and thanks him.

 

Then he wipes his hands with a tissue and cups her face with both hands. He looks down at her warm, open gaze as she looks up into his steady, hopeful eyes; and they smile at the same time as if they share a secret. Her heart floods with adrenaline as he leans down to her ear to whisper how much he has missed her. The sound of his heart pounding inside his chest floods his ears as he meets her eyes again. She stares deeply into his eyes that are the color of fresh cut grass; the tears that moisten them only add to their beauty. From the pressure of his hands on her face, she can tell he is as nervous as she is, like they have never kissed before. His lips reach her jaw, tracing the line from her ear to collarbone. Then their lips meet. He feels her tongue run across his bottom lip and opens his mouth to welcome her as their tongues explore each other's mouths. His hands are warm against her skin, and she pulls hers up high to his shoulders, where she entwines them with his soft brown hair. There is so much passion in this kiss, Mulder can swear he sees stars. She feels her stomach tickle. They break the kiss at some point and he pulls her in for a hug. She continues to stroke his hair.

 

"You're my human credential, Scully. The only thing that keeps me from being crazy," he murmurs into her back.

"God, Mulder! Any chance that the game is over already?" She laughs, getting impatient.

He leans back to consider her. "You don't wanna watch it?"

"Yes, I do! Of course, I do," she asserts.

"You know we don't have to stay, Scully. I couldn't care less about what we do today, just as long as I'm with you. It's been a while since I could hold my head up high."

 

She smiles. He touches her, and her eyes are wet.

 

"Come on! We'll watch it on replay," he says while getting up, grabbing her by the hand. 

 

******

 

They walk in the door of a very nice hotel room. Scully is preceding Mulder who is holding both of their suitcases while she puts the card key back in her coat pocket. He moves past her to put the luggage in the corner and takes a look at the room. Then he turns around to her; she is already gazing at him.

He strides towards her and takes her hands in his. Wordlessly, he slowly spreads open her coat and pulls it up to her shoulders. It carelessly falls onto the classy ocher carpet. She does the same with his jacket, mirroring his action. While she grasps the hem of his polo, he unbuttons her shirt. He holds his arms up and she lifts the clothes over his head. Her shirt now thoroughly unbuttoned, he pulls it open and cups her neck with his left hand while he puts his right one on her back. He pulls her towards him, bending his mouth down to her neck as his lips plant fond kisses up to her shoulder. He pushes her shirt aside and it falls too. Then he puts his hands on her spine, spreads his fingers as if he intends to cover her whole back with them, and pulls her to him.

Scully breathes in sharply, overcome at the feeling of his hands on her skin once again.

He drops his lips again onto her neck, she buries her face into his chest and inhales his scent deeply, vowing to never lose him again. Her ear presses against his heart; she can feel him breathe in and out. He delicately unsnaps her bra and with his face still buried in the hollows of her neck, he places a finger under each strap of her bra, and lowers them very slowly, very sensuality downs her arms, brushing her skin with his fingertips. When his hands move down to her wrists, she takes them in hers, palm against palm, crossing her fingers with his. She tilts her head up to look at him. Their eyes are filled with love, calm desire, tenderness and respect. He slowly walks backwards with her, until he finds the bed behind him and lies down on it, pulling her down to lie on top of him. They twist their legs together. He thumbs the flawless line of her jaw before their lips meet. Her arms are folded on his chest and she leans on her elbows. As their tongues twist inside their mouths, she draws the lines of his face, from his forehead, to his earlobes, to the end of his chin then she breaks the kiss gently and caresses his lips with a finger. She smoothly licks them, and then bites his earlobe. Their eyes close again; their breathing slows and finds each other’s rhythm. She lowers her lips to his jaw and then under his chin, and he tilts his head back and cups the back of her skull, gently stroking her hair. Then, he rolls her over, pulls her head down to cover her mouth, tasting all of her exquisite flavors. She, on her back, eagerly meets his kiss, his groin against hers. After several minutes, he breaks away reluctantly. He outstretches his arms, arches his back and they stare at each other. Scully's eyes are close to tears. It has been so long since she felt loved this intensely.

 

"Hey," he whispers with the most exquisite smile.

"Hey," she smiles back.

"Are you okay?"

"Am I—? Mulder, this is genuinely the most intimate I have ever experienced."

"So, I shall continue?"

"Most definitely..."

"Tell me how you want it."

"Take off my pants," she softly commands.

 

He does as asked, taking her panties with them. And there she is, completely naked in front of him. She puts one of her hands underneath her head and tilts up her face to take a good look at him. He seems to be mentally capturing every detail of her body as he stares at her in awe. He moves to drop kisses on her stomach and then her breasts, all the while massaging them. She closes her eyes as she feels his hair tickling her chin. He straightens and arches his back again, he puts one large and warm hand on her stomach and slides up her breasts, then lightly pinches her tits.

She frees the hand under her skull and grabs him with both hands by his belt. He raises his butt above her chest as she guides him to do. She undoes his belt, opens it, and sensually, one after another, opens every button of his pants and then she drags them down. Since he is straddling her, his legs are apart; so he raises himself up to help her take them and his boxers off before settling back into position above her. She takes his sex in her hands first then in her mouth, then presses his balls. Her tongue traces the length of him. Mulder moans and his eyes instantly close. He grabs his own hands atop his skull and tightens his fists, barely managing to draw in a breath. Scully seizes the sides of buttocks and pulls him to her, taking him deeper into her mouth. Then she pushes him back, then again pulls him in. And again. And again. At one point, she slides her hands to his buttock cheeks. Under her fingers, she feels his butt muscles contract and relax as, on his own, he thrusts gently into her mouth. He arches back, loosens his hands and she feels his fingers move between her spread legs.

The whole process has been slow and deadly sensual, but as they stroke the other's most intimate parts, it is coming difficult to contain and hold back. Mulder rises up from her. He catches her jaw and twists his tongue with hers. Then he nudges her to her side, and lays behind her, spooning her while kissing her shoulder and stroking her breasts. He slides his sex along her entrance, already slick and waiting for him, as he caresses her upper thigh with one hand and lifts it up. She lets out a moan as he finally penetrates her. She leans her head back to him at the same moment that he tilts her face to his and they exchange a long and blazing kiss. Her hips begin to rock to meet his thrusts and they come shortly after. His head falls into the crease of her neck and both of them try to catch breath, and she cups his face behind her, as if she wants to keep him there indefinitely.

 

He lets himself fall on his back, still breathing hard, closing his eyes and throwing an arm across his forehead. She turns back to look at him. He feels her gaze and opens his eyes, smiling. She slides down to him, tilts her face to the side, and, using his stomach as a pillow, holds onto him with both hands. Just like she did when he returned from the dead so many years ago. Just like when she had literally buried him those three months before. And, as a matter of fact, it seems to her now that he might as well have just come back from the dead again, as she has re-experienced many of those same emotions over the past three most horrible months. She begins to softly sob.

 

"Scully?" He asks, concerned as he feels drops of tears on his chest. He caresses her hair.

"I'm fine, Mulder."

"Okay...," he whispers. He does not press her for more because he knows her; he knows she is thinking of the last time he left her. The familiar feeling of guilt and the rush of helplessness right on its heels are overwhelming, so he attempts to lighten the mood. "Don't drown there though!" He tries to joke, continuing to stroke her hair. She laughs a bit through her tears. Then he raises his head and asks, "Hey, do you know how to keep a man from drowning?" She sniffles and turns her face to him, waiting for the answer. "Get his girlfriend off his back!" He answers. This time, she frankly laughs and hides her head on his stomach again.

"There's that woman again!"

"What woman?"

"The woman laughing or crying while making love, who knows how to turn her spirit into flesh; the woman whom I shouldn't fall in love with."

 

******

 

NOVEMBER 2011

 

Mulder, casually dressed, presses the button marked Scully on the intercom at the threshold of a three-story building. As there is no answer, he presses a second time. In her apartment, Scully finishes her conversation with her mother. In the time it takes for her to say goodbye and hang up, Mulder is gone when she answers the intercom. 

Outside, he has walked a couple of meters away and is getting his phone out to call her. She opens her living room's window and calls out to him from the second floor.

 

"Hey, stranger! It's freezing out there. Come up. I'll make you some coffee."

Mulder turns around and looks up at her. "Hey! I feel I should tell you that... I'm not gonna sleep with you."

 

She pulls a disappointed face and goes back to her door, presses the button interphone to open the building door and he comes inside. She awaits him at the door and he arrives shortly after.

 

"Only kind spooky lovers welcome here," she blocks the entrance with her arm across the doorway.

"I do know a couple of crazy ones that might be the perfect fit for you," he teases, grabbing her waist gently and pulling her closer.

"I'd rather un-crazy ones."

"Oh, then I know the perfect guy for you. He's not always in town but I believe he's here today actually!" He smiles.

She smiles back. He puts his index finger under her chin and lifts her face up to kiss her. She unblocks the door and they both go inside.

 

"So what'd you find, Scully?"

"What? I can't call you just because I want to see you?"

 

She pours two cups of coffee while he takes off his jacket and sits on the sofa.

 

"Can't there be two reasons?" He smiles.

She hands him a mug and sits down beside him. "You were right, Mulder. There was something peculiar in the vaccine."

"How peculiar?" He asks eagerly while warming his hands on the mug.

"It is partly composed of a biological material I'd never seen before. It was barely detectable; I had to run the tests twice."

"Can it be categorized as alien?"

"By definition of course," she sips at her mug. "I isolated and separated the substance in pure form. It is the most complex combination that I've ever encountered. It seems to be built like a virus but I'm not sure where to go from there..."

"Are you sure no one saw you analyze the sample?"

"Yes, Mulder, I'm sure, don't worry."

 

They remain silent a moment.

 

"Mulder..." He leans back comfortably on the sofa and turns his head to her. "What you said to Doggett... Let's say that's right," she admits. He nods and she continues, "I can't believe I'm about to say it, but let's say this is a dormant alien virus, that it's going to be triggered next year... How do we stop them? I can't work on a vaccine with just these few details I have. I need more; otherwise it could take ages..."

"I know..."

"Hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, of people have been shot with this vaccine, worldwide... You and me included... I can't begin to fathom why."

"When I gave you the sample, I called back Doggett. I need to know more about the Super Soldiers. They could be the answer." He says, and while Scully nods, he continues, "And I also called Skinner a couple of weeks ago. I asked him to try to locate our anonymous informant from the little knowledge we have."

"Has he found something?"

"Not yet. He promised to keep me posted."

"I don't get the connection between the Soldiers and the virus..."

"I don't either but there's gotta be one; they've been working on this for decades. We've got to keep looking!"

"In the mean time, I sent what's left of the sample to both the FEMA and the CDC."

 

Although she still is not completely convinced about this End Game, Scully is more comfortable with trying to follow up and help Mulder in this new quest of his, this new obsession, than let him go crazy about it. Stand by his side. After all, this is how Mulder works, this is what he knows to do. This way she is keeping him in the land of the living. Because, as truly as Scully was once left barren after her abduction, she knew he was too when they were separated. And she knows the feelings too well. Her place is here with him. This is a scientific fact. This is a polarity matter. They are magnets. As a matter of fact, in French "magnet" and "loving" are one and same word. Funny.

 

******


	13. WILL THERE EVER BE A HAPPY ENDING?

CHAPTER 13. WILL THERE EVER BE A HAPPY ENDING?  
OCTOBER 2012

 

Almost a year has passed, and it is only drawing closer to the supposed date of the end of the world. Doggett and Skinner have not been able to help with Mulder's requests. Skinner could only trace the call to around northern South Carolina. As for the vaccine, they were not contacted. Paranoid, Mulder concluded that the vaccine has been intercepted.

First there was hope. Scully had moved back in and they were happy again. But the closer the fated date approaches, the more Mulder is looking like a lion in a cage, and the more he feels himself fall into a black hole, unable to grab to anything to prevent him from falling. He is like a prisoner on death row, knowing his execution date. He has been there before, but he managed to escape then. Now, there is no escape, no back door. As category 3 Hurricane Sandy currently devastates the Caribbean, he is feeling that even the elements are going mad, preparing Earth for what it will soon look like: a ravaged land, preparing humankind for the Armageddon.

He has been feeling like he might soon be asked for a last meal and a last will. William.

But Scully is here, and she is doing her best. And if it were not for her, he would have long faded into darkness and madness again. With her by his side, he has surprised himself several times hoping, hoping that he has been wrong about all of it. Sometimes, he leaves it all to fate, telling himself that if something were to happen, at least he is not alone, at least he would have spent the little time they had left together. He has to keep his spirits up.

When she is at work though, when he is alone, it is a whole different story. He could not help it. It is almost a relief to take off the mask when she leaves; that is how much he struggles to maintain appearances when she is around. Once she shuts the door behind her, he feels his body almost physically crumble as his mind slides towards darkness. He recalls back to when she had to travel for half a week, and he had been so depressed that he had thought about putting an end to it. That night, he had taken out his gun. He had been closer than ever, with his finger on the trigger. Horribly torn between his depression, powerlessness, failure and then his love for her and knowing how his death would affect her, he had hesitated. And then, the next minute, like telepathy, like connected souls, she was calling him on Skype. She had saved his life then, once more, without even knowing it.

That night, Scully had seen through him, and right away she had shortened her trip and come back the next day.

It was three months ago, about the same time that Mulder's book was finally edited.

And that very night, Scully had decided to take a leave of absence. Since then, they have been together twenty-four seven. Scully had convinced him to let go and he did. They had taken trips, for personal time or to promote Mulder's book, and it had done them both a lot of good. Earth is a beautiful place to wander, and there are so many things to see. But not one time did either of them think "and so little time to see them". Not even when Neil Armstrong died on August 25th and Scully remembered the Apollo 11 keychain, Mulder's gift and homage to their partnership.

 

When they snake their way through the middle of other travelers waiting for their luggage near the baggage carousel, they are tanned and holding hands, just back from a great holiday of trekking in southern Moroccan desert. They look good. No, they look perfect.

 

When Mulder's phone rings in his pocket, Scully gives him a wry look and says, "That wasn't long!"

"Looks like a long distance call," he answers, intrigued. "Do you think they found your panties on that bus? We're so busted!" He smiles. She cannot help but smile too.

"Mulder," he says. He listens to his interlocutor a moment, then leans downto Scully and tilts the phone for her to listen.

"... Valladolid police station," she hears as she joins the call, "We found your card in one of Dr. Francisco Ekangminio Peluna's desk drawers."

"Yes, we met last year."

"Why did you meet?"

"We were visiting Mayan ruins and I contacted him to learn more about the history of his ancestors."

"We?"

"My wife... partner and I," he corrects. "I'm a former FBI agent. May I ask what this is about?"

"Dr Ekangminio Peluna was found murdered late last night," the caller confesses after an instant of hesitation. Scully looks up at Mulder with a question in her eyes.

"Oh my! I'm sorry to hear that! If there's anything I can do to help..."

"I found out that you are now a writer. Anything that you discussed with Ekangminio Peluna in that book?" He asks with a Spanish accent.

"No."

"Thank you, Mr. Mulder, I will get back to you if I have further questions ," the policeman concludes.

 

Mulder and Scully stare at each other while he puts his phone back in his pocket. They both know what the other thinks: This is suspicious. Back to reality. "Everybody fasten your seatbelt, this is going to be a tough landing..." Mulder murmurs.

 

******

 

They do not talk much on the drive home. Mulder is wondering about the meaning of that murder, and Scully is wondering if Mulder is going to bear up. It has been almost two consecutive months since they have been back to their house, two incredible months of carefree joy and pleasures. Nothing but them. The last time they were home, they were back from one month in Vietnam only to decide to leave a couple of days later for Morocco. She wishes they plan another trip right away. Australia would be a nice warm place... But Mulder's mind is not there. He is concerned.

 

Mulder pushes the door open. Like last month, there is a little pile of mail behind the door. He puts the luggage down and picks up the mail while Scully opens the shutters. She would let the windows open, but it feels cold and humid outside, especially to two people just back from Northern Africa.

Mulder puts the mail on the kitchen table and tells her he is going to take a shower. She could use one too. They have been travelling back for more than twenty-four hours, including the stop in Paris, and she is jetlagged. Although it is the middle of the afternoon, it feels like it should be time for bed.

 

"Do you mind if I join you?" Scully asks, coming in the bathroom.

"Of course not," he answers, moving the shower curtain aside.

 

She undresses and meets him under the hot steam of water, facing him. He embraces her with both arms and rubs her back. She tips her head up to him, and they make eye contact.

 

"Are you okay?" She asks worryingly.

"Just tired," he assures her.

"Yeah, me too."

 

She wraps his waist and tilts her face against his chest as he continues to gently massage her back. She is afraid that he will not talk to her, that he will be nervous to scare and worry her.

 

"Do not let darkness find you," she finally says.

 

******

 

When Scully wakes the next morning, Mulder is already up. His side of the bed is cold, meaning he has probably been up for some time. She gets up and heads straight to his office. Where else? He is indeed surfing the Internet, searching the news to learn more about the Mexican doctor's death.

 

"Mulder, the Internet is not good for you!" She exclaims to his back. He spins around in his desk chair and smiles at her. Guilty! "Have you had breakfast at all?" She asks.

"I need to go grocery shopping. We're out of Froot Loops! Out of everything actually," he says, getting up from his desk and meeting her with a kiss.

"What did you find?" She asks, trying not to be cut out off from his world.

"Not much. He was found in his house with a bullet hole in the chest."

"You're thinking about going there?"

 

He looks down at her and shakes his head, still surprised after all this time how easily she is able to read his mind.

 

"I do," he grins.

"You're not going alone."

"Good!"

"So I guess we don't need groceries after all. Get dressed, Mulder, and let's have breakfast outside."

 

******

 

The next day, Mulder and Scully are on a plane again. Scully has booked the same hotel they stayed at about eighteen months ago in Tulum, Mexico. As the plane takes off, Mulder and Scully look at each other at the same time. They both laugh as they remember the exact same memory at once: the last time they took this plane, they ended up having a little extra fun in the bathroom. They reminisce about it, and he takes her hand in his and pulls it to his lap, entwining his fingers with hers. Then they both lean their heads back and close their eyes.

 

******

 

While Mulder heads to the car rental desk, Scully exits the air-conditioned airport and pleasantly welcomes the Mexican atmosphere's moist warmth. She has loved the summer extension they have been experiencing. Two days before, when they landed in D.C., she strangely felt she did not belong there.

She sits on a low wall near the exit and peacefully observes the comings and goings of taxi drivers griping about wandering tourists.

 

"Let's go, G-woman!" Mulder startles her out of her reverie, taking her by the hand while pulling their single luggage.

 

******

 

After close to two hours of driving, they check into the hotel and unpack in their hotel room. The sun is setting. Mulder offers to let her shower first. Meanwhile, he rests on the bed. When she emerges from the bathroom, Mulder tilts his head and then finds himself speechless. She wears a long backless navy blue dress. The opening down her back is so low that it reveals the top of her thong. It is made out of such a lightweight material that Mulder can guess the contours of her buttocks when she spins around for him. Sexy and classy. And this woman is forty-eight years old! As she walks toward the bed, he raises himself upright on his arms.

 

"Fuck, Scully! How in the hell am I going to be able to measure up!?"

"I'll take that as an approval!" She laughs. Drastic times call for drastic measures, she thought when she chose this outfit.

 

******

 

Mulder wears the most decent outfit out of all he has packed in the suitcase: beige Bermuda shorts and a white dress shirt tucked up to the elbows. They walk down a quiet street, looking for a nice place to eat. His arm is around her waist and occasionally he bends down to look at Scully's back with hungry eyes, still wondering a) when and where she got that stunning dress b) whether he loves her more dressed or undressed and c) how she could still keep him guessing after all this time.

As they move onto a dark street section where three successive streetlights are off, he suddenly grabs her by the hips. Like a teenager, he pushes her passionately against the hood of a car until she lies on her back, giggling. He leans over her sensually, presses his pelvis against hers, and kisses her fervidly, stroking the side of her hip with one hand and holding back her head with the other. She slides both arms underneath his armpits and holds on to his back. Then he abruptly breaks the kiss to catch his breath.

 

"Now what?" She asks provocatively.

"Don't tempt me!" He smiles, pulling her up by the hand to help her sit upright. He sits on the hood next to her, encases her hand in his before his crossed legs, and tilts his head to the stars, inhaling deeply. She stares at him. He feels her gaze and turns his face to her. No words are needed. She lets him calm down.

 

******

 

THE NEXT DAY

 

The clothes they wore the evening before are scattered on the floor. The bay window is open facing the sea and the sheer curtain rises and falls gently with the morning's little wind. When Mulder opens his eyes, he is lying behind Scully, spooning her and she still holds his hands. He lifts his head and kisses her neck.

After they shower, dress — casual clothes this time — and have breakfast, they drive to the Valladolid police station.

The Mexican inspector is a man of medium build and height, in his fifties, black hair, a little bald. Although he called Mulder a few days earlier, he does not recall right away, surprised that Mulder has come from the United States to talk about the case. Cheerful, the man offers them a strong Mexican coffee in his office.

 

"You speak perfect English, sir," Scully admires.

"Well, I don't know about that, but this region is popular with tourists."

"There are beautiful sites indeed."

 

After exchanging the usual formalities, and after explaining to the Mexican inspector that they are former FBI agents and that they are interested in helping him, Mulder comes to the reason of their visit.

 

"If you don't mind my asking, we would like to see the list of evidence you have collected and/or strange elements you might have noticed," Mulder starts. "Dana Scully here is also a medical doctor. Did you perform an autopsy already?"

"We did. I can provide you with a copy of the report."

"That would be very nice", Scully says.

"And, do you have the list of the incoming and outgoing calls from Dr. Ekangminio Peluna's house?"

"I didn't order it, but I can. Are you expecting to find something in particular?"

"I'm not sure. I'm wondering if he ever made or received international calls."

"Well, he probably did. He was in politics for one, and he recently did answer to lots of journalists, regarding the Mayan prophecy."

"About this... Is there any sign that this murder could be linked to it?"

"No!" He answers sharply, eyes opening wide out of surprise.

"No, I didn't think so," Mulder lies.

 

Twenty minutes later, they leave the police station, shake hands and the inspector promises to fax all the documents they asked for to the hotel. 

 

******

 

NOVEMBER 2012 — THREE DAYS LATER

 

Like every morning for the last three days, Mulder makes a detour to the lobby. And this morning, he is in luck; the receptionist hands him a brown envelop on which his name and room number has been written. Relieved, he joins Scully on the restaurant terrace for breakfast and opens the envelope while she eats her omelet. Scully cannot believe that he begins reading right away, before even eating anything. Well, no, actually, she can. Well, she is not going to read that autopsy report before she is finished eating!   
As Mulder opens the envelope, he finds a whole lot of paperwork: autopsy report, phone bills, evidence list, photo shots from the crime scene, ballistics report, witnesses' testimonies... He is soon focused on his reading yet upset not to find anything concrete that can lead them forward on the topic that interests him. However, it seems unlikely that this is a mere coincidence.

 

Back in their room, Scully agrees to take a look at the autopsy report. While he examines the rest of the pieces, Scully stops her reading and reaches for the photos. Mulder raises his eyebrows at her, wondering if she is onto something. But he does not question her; he lets her do her thing.

Mulder learns that Dr. Francisco Ekangminio Peluna was probably shot from his own gun. His registered weapon had yet to be found but the bullet matched this type of pistol. Plus, it was an ancient one, which was odd and rare enough. This single detail intrigues Mulder: according to the housekeeper, nothing seemed to be missing, which ruled out robbery. Mulder wonders, if you plan on killing someone, shouldn't you bring your weapon? Or did something happen and turn into an argument?

Mulder looks at Scully again as she uses her glasses as a magnifier glass to get a better look at a photo.

 

"Something wrong?" He asks.

"I think so." She hands him her glasses and the photo. "According to the report, there are three noticeable injuries: the gunshot wound to the heart, a skull fracture, and a snapped neck. All three occurred in an extremely short time-lapse. There are no bruises that can help to determine how much time passed between either one. So the report concludes that the gunshot propelled Francisco backward, causing both the fracture and the neck injury. Yet, look at the background."

In the photo, a man is lying on his back, eyes closed. There is a small red stain on his light blue shirt around his heart. The man lies on typical Mexican colorful tiles. Around him, there is no table, chair or any other piece of furniture or decorative object.

 

"He fell on a wide open space", Mulder remarks.

"Right. Nothing in this photo would have caused these injuries. Well, maybe the fracture, but what caused the spanned neck? And then there is something else." He looks up at her, captivated. "If the gunshot wound did kill him, he would have lost a whole lot more blood," she continues. "There was almost no blood behind the skull. So, if it were my conclusions, I would have written that he was strangled first, which caused the neck injury that led to his death. Then he fell, which caused the skull fracture, and then for some reason, the murderer shot him..."

"Good job, Scully."

"Better than you expected or better than you hoped?"

"Hoped, " he smiles.

 

Scully turns a page and continues to read the report. Mulder looks back at the photos and searches for another one with greater details on the dead man's face. He wants to get a better look at his neck. But soon he drops it and takes another file from the envelope.

 

"Hey, Scully, listen to this," he says after consulting a page. "There is an eyewitness, a neighbor. You ready for this? She claims she saw Peluna's nephew a few minutes before the supposed time of death. The police didn't give credence to this because Peluna's nephew had died the week before!"

"What's on your mind, Mulder?"

"Bounty hunter? Super Soldier?"

"Mulder... This is highly unlikely..." She complains softly. She does not want to be harsh, but there is no evidence that points to the fact that the Mexican doctor might have been aware of a conspiracy. In fact, there is no indication that the two cases are even remotely connected.

"But not outside the realm of extreme possibility! Why discredit the witness right away?"

 

Scully narrows her eyes, not quite prepared for this; she thinks that this was too big, almost too easy and way too rapidly concluded.

 

"What do you think this means?" Mulder asks, handing her a photograph of a torn piece of paper. The word 'Spartan' is written on it, but it is unclear if it is the whole word or not; the paper is jagged just after the N.

"Spartan? Should it remind me of something?" She asks.

"I have no fucking idea!" He blows up, upset.

 

******


	14. THE END OF THE WORLD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Flares", by The Script
> 
> Did you lose what won't return?  
> Did you love but never learn?  
> The fire's out but still it burns  
> And no one cares, there's no one there
> 
> Did you find it hard to breathe?  
> Did you cry so much that you could barely see?  
> In the darkness all alone  
> And no one cares, there's no one there
> 
> Well did you see the flares in the sky?  
> Were you blinded by the light?  
> Did you feel the smoke in your eyes?  
> Did you? Did you?  
> Did you see the sparks feel the hope? You are not alone  
> Cause someone's out there, sending out flares
> 
> Did you break but never mend?  
> Did it hurt so much you thought it was the end?  
> Lose your heart but don't know when  
> And no one cares, there's no one there
> 
> Well did you see the flares in the sky?  
> Were you blinded by the light?  
> Did you feel the smoke in your eyes?  
> Did you? Did you?  
> Did you see the sparks feel the hope? You are not alone  
> Cause someone's out there, sending out flares  
> Someone's out there, sending out flares
> 
> Did you lose what won't return?  
> Did you love but never learn?
> 
> But did you see the flares in the sky?  
> Were you blinded by the light?  
> Did you feel the smoke in your eyes?  
> Did you? Did you?  
> Did you see the sparks filled with hope? You are not alone  
> Cause someone's out there, sending out flares
> 
> Well did you see the flares in the sky?  
> Were you blinded by the light?  
> Did you feel the smoke in your eyes?  
> Did you? Did you?  
> Did you see the sparks feel the hope? You are not alone  
> Cause someone's out there, sending out flares  
> Someone's out there, sending out flares

CHAPTER 14. THE END OF THE WORLD  
DECEMBER 21, 2012

 

"Unless the world ends tomorrow because a misinterpretation of the Mayan calendar magically comes true, this year's biggest event will remain November 6th and the reelection of President Barack Obama", Scully thinks to herself as she watches Mulder fill his glass with wine for the fifth time. Nothing happened after their second trip to Mexico. This 'case' was really a dead end, and Mulder was not at his best.

They are eating silently. In the background, the radio is playing 'Starlight' by Muse. Scully has heard this song many times but today, its words echo louder in her heart. She wonders if Mulder is listening too.

 

"Far away, this ship has taken me far away, far away from the memories of the people who care if I live or die.  
Starlight, I will be chasing a starlight until the end of my life; I don't know if it's worth it anymore.  
Hold you in my arms, I just wanted to hold you in my arms.  
My life, you electrify my life; let's conspire to ignite all the souls that would die just to feel alive.  
I'll never let you go if you promise not to fade away, never fade away.  
Our hopes and expectations, black holes and revelations,  
Our hopes and expectations, black holes and revelations..."

 

"It's not the end, Mulder," she whispers softly, taking his hand across the table.

 

Mulder smiles at the thought that actually it is. Montauk, the end. For what might be their last night, he had wanted to come here, so that, if he had been insanely mad to believe the insanity, they could watch the sun rise the next morning.

The Lobster Roll restaurant is slowly emptying when Mulder and Scully finish eating their baskets of battered onion rings.

 

"I wanna do something crazy," he suddenly grins, feeling the alcohol flushing his cheeks and weakening his legs.

"Like what?" Scully raises an eyebrow in question.

"Like I'd know!" He laughs.

 

He sharply wipes his mouth with his napkin, throws it onto the table and stands, pulling Scully up by one hand and taking the bottle with the other. The way Mulder staggers, this is obviously not the first bottle they have had.  
Outside the diner, she stops him from sitting in the driver's seat, and takes the car keys from him. The night is clear, cold and windy. As they head back to Montauk village, Mulder drinks some more wine out of the bottle and tells her to drive to the beach. After a few miles, she stops the rental car at the end of the empty sandy path that leads to Ditch Plains beach.

 

"You're supposed to have a village permit to park here, Mulder. Crazy enough?"

"Let's go for a swim, Scully!" She instantly turns her head to him, staring at him. "A midnight bath under moonlight! You and me!"

"No way!"

"Come on!" He smirks.

"The water must be forty degrees Mulder! I'm not doing it!"

"Fine!" He says, undressing himself.

"Mulder, you'll freeze to death!"

 

The next thing she knows he is getting out of the car naked, running toward the sea. And without a second thought, he jumps right in. Scully exits the car to watch him. Although the sky is clear, this is the first quarter; the moon will only be full next week, if there is a next week, of course...

 

"Oh my God Scully! You have no idea how cold it is!" She hears him yell.

 

She steps back to the car, turns the ignition and puts the heat on high. While she's at it, she turns on the lights, illuminating the water and a crazy drunk guy. She sits on the hood of the car, feet on the bumper. Although she is wearing a sweater and a coat, she is cold just looking at him. Eventually, he comes out and rushes into Scully's arms.

 

"Had the time of your life?" She smiles and rubs his frozen back.

"Should have thought about bringing a towel!" He trembles.

"Get in the car, I put the heat on," she says pushing him back.

"I don't feel that cold."

"You're drunk. Get in the car."

 

He lets himself be pushed back and led to the passenger seat. She then sits behind the wheel and starts picking up his clothes for him, urging him to get dressed.  
While she bends over, he slides his cold hand inside her pants and caresses her buttocks. She raises upright in surprise.

 

"Not the place, Mulder!"

"Since when is there a place?" He looks behind at the backseat. "Looks pretty good to me!"

 

He leans over her and pushes his tongue inside her mouth, sliding his other hand inside the front of her panties. She feels his breath on her face, the smell of it laced with alcohol. And his hands are so cold. She shivers as he strokes her intimate parts. He breaks the kiss to catch his breath. She gently takes his hand off of her, then seizes his head and rests it over her chest, stroking his hair absently.

 

"You've had way too much to drink, Mulder," she says softly.

 

He begins crying. It surprises her. She cuddles him and shushes him, trying to calm him down. In spite of the heat, his teeth are chattering and his body is still shaking.

 

"Mulder, put your clothes back on," she begs him. "You're gonna go in hypothermia."

 

Trembling, he rejects the idea and puts both hands by her sides to pull himself up and then leans over her, pressing his torso against hers, their faces inches away.

 

"I want you," he pleads. He kisses her again without waiting for a response, pressing his cold body against her coat. He pulls the seat handle up and reclines the seat back, forcing it back all the way to a horizontal position. He feels a blast of warmth rip though him as the heater blows across his lower back. He feels intoxicated by arousal ,and it is making him lightheaded. He cannot remember when he has wanted her more. Breaking away from the kiss, he opens his eyes and stares at her. In turn, she opens her eyes. Although she does not seem to be in the mood for sex, she had closed her eyes during the kiss. That must be a good thing, he thinks. But she also seems to feel sorry for him, forcing a gentle smile. Still supporting himself on his outstretched arms, he lowers his head and pushes aside her coat's collar and lapel with his nose. He hums her and huffs hot breathe over her sweater and gasps with desire. It's overpowering him in a way that lets him know it's not just the alcohol.

She fondles his flexed biceps as if willing to indulge him, yet not quite welcoming him in her embrace. Mulder leans over a bit closer to her and, trying not to hit his head on the car ceiling, he straddles her. She is lying on her inclined seat and he stoops to cup her face and kiss her. His hands have warmed a little. While kissing her, he tenderly fondles her cheeks with his thumbs.

In such a position, she has nowhere to lay her hands but on his butt. Although he is yet quite obviously drunk, Scully still feels his tenderness and calm insistence. And eventually, she starts feeling her lower belly tickling her. She begins caressing his torso and stomach with her knuckles. As he senses that she is beginning to become aroused, he sits back on her thighs and buries his tongue deeper in her month while sliding his hands underneath her sweater. He roughly pulls her bra up and cups her breasts, squeezing them and lightly pinching her nipples. Then he lifts the sweater over her head and removes her bra as she arches her back. He is completely hard and the tip of his cock presses against her belly button when he takes a handful of her breasts again. A few minutes ago, he was freezing cold and now he is burning hot. He presses his tongue back in her mouth as she cups his buttocks. His hand slips between them, down her pants, and urgently unbuttons them, and then moves to the inside of her panties where he draws little and fast circles before thrusting a finger up into her.

Eventually, he moves up and around her to sit in the backseat. The idea of sticking his sex inside her mouth crosses his mind for an instant but he restrains himself and instead pulls her by the hand to his lap once he is settled in the backseat. As she is getting up and stepping on the front seats, he grabs her pants and panties down. Still standing — as much as one can stand inside a car —, she takes one shoe off and he frees her leg. He pulls her to his lap, making her turn around, her back against his front. She bends down and takes off her second shoe and removes her pants. Then, from behind, both entirely naked, he cups her breasts again and kisses the groove between her shoulder and neck. She tilts her head backward on his shoulder and holds onto his forearms, completely pressed against him. He has so much desire and is so aroused that he could bite her now. He wraps his arms around her and squeezes her breasts and nipples. Then he slides one hand down, his searching fingers passing her pubic hair and seeking her clit. He spreads her legs wide open by spreading his own. Their breathing is hard as he fondles her inner lips. He bites, licks and sucks her earlobe and whispers her name lovingly. She lowers a hand too to feel his sex but she barely can in this position. He fingers her again and then he takes his penis and slides it inside her. His mouth drops open and he blows a warm, alcohol-tinged breath behind her ear. She breaks free from his embrace and leans down to find a better angle. He massages her back along her spine as she clings to the front passenger seat to rock up and down on him.

At one point, he spans her waist and slides his butt to the left of the backseat, by the door. He passes his right arm over her shoulder and while pulling her against him, he catches her breast, bends up his left leg and makes the two of them lay on their sides. He starts pumping back and forth inside her again, holding her close by one arm over her shoulder and the other one around her waist, pressing her down onto him. She almost lies on her back and he draws the line of her jaw with a couple of fingers, inviting her to turn her face to him, which she does. He stares at her admiringly, yearningly while continuing to penetrate her. He pulls her face closer and leans over to kiss her hard, while thrusting into her just as hard, burying himself deeper inside her tight belly. She moans loudly and cries in his mouth. She loosens his grip onto her and turns around. They stare at each other, gasping into opened mouths. He holds on to her waist as she straddles him, face to face and then he slides back inside of her and cups her ass from behind. She moves her hips in slow circles, enjoying the sensation of his cock deep inside her while he pumps up and down. When she steadies herself, he thrusts faster and begins to slide his hands along her sides, relishing the view of her bouncing breasts. And when he feels he is about to come, he slips his finger down to stroke her clit with the thumb he just licked. They both come shortly after with a loud groan.

Scully lets herself fall into his arms. He rubs her back while both try to steady their breathing. The inside of the car is hotter than a sauna. The windows are covered with steam, as heat has been working the whole time. The scent of the air is a mixture of sex and alcohol. Mulder lets his head fall backward, eyes closed.

She sits by his side, drawing the shape of her hand in the fog of the window, reminiscent of Kate in 'Titanic'.

 

Mulder suddenly hides his face in his hands and begins sobbing. Scully turns her face to his, taking one of his hands in hers and removing it from his face. He does not want her to see him crying, so he bends over and folds himself over his lap, pulling his hand back from her and putting it back over his face. Scully calls his name and bends over his back, cuddling him and stroking his arms.

 

"Honey, what's wrong?" She repeats.

 

No answer. Mulder is crying and swaying lightly back and forth, closing himself off from her. She leans over, fights his resistance with more strength, grabs his arms and forces him to turn around to her. She pulls him to her and eventually hugs him.

 

"Shush... It's okay...," she murmurs as he cries over her shoulder. "You're having a nervous breakdown...," she says softly while cuddling his hair. "I know what you're thinking, honey. You're not crazy, nor a failure... Just exhausted and stubborn!" She smiles at this because that is why she fell in love with him.

 

Mulder remains inconsolable.

 

"I'm here... Shush... I'm not going anywhere." She grabs his face to meet his broken beautiful hazel eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, Mulder," she repeats. "I love you. What we have is unique. Has it been perfect? Hardly. But here's what I know for sure: our time in the sun has been a thing of absolute fucking beauty."

 

He raises a brow at the F word and chortles; it sounds so weird to him to hear that word on her lips. Relieved to see him cheering up a little, she hugs him again and leans back on the seat with him.

 

******

 

She opens her eyes as the first rays of light begin to hit the windshield.

 

"Mulder, wake up," she says.

 

They are still naked in the back of the car, the engine and heat still on. His arm is casually draped over her shoulder. He opens his tired eyes as she is looking for their clothes.

 

"Sun is rising," she says, delighted, while getting dressed. "Get dressed," she urges him, giving him his clothes.

 

She slides to the front seat and turns off the engine. Then she exits the car and slams the door closed. She takes a few steps towards the water, and then fills her lungs with the salty air, smiling. Instinctively, she closes her eyes and her fingers touch the little cross around her neck.

Mulder gets out of the car and stops a few feet from her. She turns to looks at him, smiling, but he doesn't return the smile. He is staring at the rising sun, looking sad and concerned. His eyes are still wet; it has been a rough night. She reaches for his hand and squeezes it, but he doesn't react to her touch. Then she closes the distance, she rises on her tiptoes to grasp the nape of his neck and the back of his skull.

Mulder is like a zombie, though, unable to be consoled. He suddenly breaks from her embrace and hurries back to the car where he gives a violent punch onto the hood.

 

"Mulder?! Mulder, stop!" She rushes back to him.

"Scully, don't!" He finally manages to say, holding a hand up to stop her from coming any closer.

"What's the problem!? You're mad we didn't have an Armageddon?"

 

He strokes his hair nervously with both hands.

 

"Is that what last night was about?! One last hard fuck? You expected today wouldn't happen and now you're mad that it did?" She grabs his arm and he jerks it away. "Why??" She asks as he turns around to avoid her gaze and walks toward the back of the car. "Did you want to die?" She asks again, following him.

"Get away from me, Scully!"

"Mulder? Talk to me!" She tries to grabs him again but barely brushes him.

Suddenly, he turns around and grips her hips harshly. He presses her against the car. "I said leave me alone, Scully!"

"I can't!"

"Damn it, Scully!" He screams, lifting his tightened fist threateningly and then hitting the roof of the car. He hits it so hard that it leaves a dent in the sheet metal. Scully stays calm and keeps watching him, whereas he steps back, almost losing his balance.

"Pull yourself together, Mulder. Let me help you!"

"Get away...," he cries, sliding his back against the car until he is cowered, squatting down, with his face in his hands.

 

She walks back to where he is, kneeling in front of him and cuddling his hair.

 

"The world didn't end. That's not a first... There's no Armageddon. There's just now, and there's just the two of us, which can be scary-fucking ugly sometimes," she says softly.

 

He grabs her hands and pushes her away. She falls backward on the sand with him lying on top of her, pressing her hands together above her head, pressing his body against her, arched back, captivating her. His whole posture is threatening, something Scully has never seen before; he is almost violent.

 

"I don't want to talk about it, I said..."

"The truth may hurt but it's all that matters."

 

Scully wants to reason with him, make him come back from wherever dark place he fell, so she quickly wraps her legs around his waist and reaches up to capture his mouth with hers. He retreats and frees her hands to loosen her legs. Then she grabs his head and pulls it down to her and kisses him harshly again. As he resists and struggles again, she puts one hand over his pants between inner thighs and squeezes his cock.

 

"Feel alive yet?" She yells.

 

He removes her hand and grips her wrists to glue them on the sand again. Then he brutally bends over to kiss her hard. He thrusts his tongue into her mouth so hard that their teeth hit. She wraps her legs around him again and lifts her groin against his. He lets go off one wrist and presses her hip down, stroking her. She takes the opportunity to gather all of her strength and roll over him. She straddles him and grips his face to keep him in her mouth. He roughly clutches her butt from beneath, squeezes it and rocks roughly up and down. He darts a hand down her sex from behind. His other hand grips the nape of her neck and he fastens and deepens the circular motions, sometimes sucking her tongue while stroking her vagina forcefully through her pants while rotating his hips up and down, his cock hard inside his jeans. He holds her hard and tight in his grip; he has all power and can do whatever he wants with her.

When eventually he hears her moan awkwardly, he realizes what he is doing and how brutal he is.  
He relaxes and releases her, wrenching his arms away from where they had been splayed, like Christ on the cross, breaking from the kiss and titling his head back, breathing hard.

She does not say anything; she relaxes too and lies on him in a tender and nonsexual way, leaning her head on his chest. He wraps his arms completely around her and gently caresses her back, saying he is sorry. She softly strokes his chest.

 

"Can we go home now?" She asks. 

 

******


	15. THE END OF OUR WORLD, UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "North", by Sleeping at last
> 
> We will call this place our home,  
> The dirt in which our roots may grow.  
> Though the storms will push and pull,  
> We will call this place our home.
> 
> We’ll tell our stories on these walls.  
> Every year, measure how tall.  
> And just like a work of art,  
> We’ll tell our stories on these walls.
> 
> Let the years we’re here be kind, be kind.  
> Let our hearts, like doors, open wide, open wide.  
> Settle our bones like wood over time, over time.  
> Give us bread, give us salt, give us wine.
> 
> A little broken, a little new.  
> We are the impact and the glue.  
> Capable of more than we know,  
> We call this fixer upper home.
> 
> With each year, our color fades.  
> Slowly, our paint chips away.  
> But we will find the strength  
> And the nerve it takes  
> To repaint and repaint and repaint every day.
> 
> Let the years we’re here be kind, be kind.  
> Let our hearts, like doors, open wide, open wide.  
> Settle our bones like wood over time, over time.  
> Give us bread, give us salt, give us wine.  
> Let the years we’re here be kind, be kind.  
> Let our hearts, like doors, open wide, open wide.  
> Settle our bones like wood over time, over time.  
> Give us bread, give us salt, give us wine.  
> Give us bread, give us salt, give us wine.
> 
> Smaller than dust on this map  
> Lies the greatest thing we have:  
> The dirt in which our roots may grow  
> And the right to call it home.

CHAPTER 15 (EPILOGUE). THE END OF OUR WORLD, UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN  
2013 THROUGH 2015

 

In the weeks and months that followed, Mulder's depression continued to deepen, leading him to experience a series of panic attacks that increased in severity. Scully could only look on helplessly as the kindest, gentlest, sweetest man she had ever known, a man who adored her completely, transformed into someone much darker and harsh than she could have ever imagined. There was nothing she could because he was letting not her, he kept pushing her away.

 

"For years I woke up, fucked up, said I was sorry, passed out and did it all over again! Get outta here, Scully! I'm sick of all this...!" He would yell.

 

Sometimes he broke her heart, telling her he did not love her, never had loved her. She knew it was not true; she felt it in her gut. She had no doubt that this was nothing but a lie. This man have loved her and trusted her more than any other man had ever loved or trusted a woman before. But it still hurt like hell. Fighting her cancer or taking a bullet had been nothing in comparison.

He started sleeping on the couch again, and began having trouble sleeping.  
It seemed to her that each word that she spoke to him was just an irritation to him.

Yet, some days, for reasons she could not fathom, he was suddenly fine and happy, and had completely forgotten about his irrational behavior. These days, they would make love. Several times during the day. Sometimes it was sad, sometimes it was kind, sometimes it was harsh, but it was always intense. She believed she needed it more than he did. But the truth was that they both did.

After two to three months of fighting and not wanting to give him up, months of complete and utter hell, Scully's body started to give signs of weakness. Her stomach ached so bad, she had it checked for ulcer... or something worse she did not even want to think about. She had the feeling this was only the early sign of an anxiety response.

Mulder was very ill, vomiting constantly, covered in hives, chest pains, stomach aches, migraines. She fought again. But she returned to work after almost nine months' leave of absence. She tried to spend less time with him to protect herself.

The more he was trying to understand what happened to the so-called End Game and why nothing had happened, the more he was falling deeper into depression and paranoia, no matter how many drugs Scully was giving him. He started to claim that everyone got it wrong, and that the Mayan calendar would actually end on May 15, 2015; that even though the Mayans predicted the end in 2012, just in case their computations were wrong they had gone ahead and predicted another apocalypse in 2015 as well.

Finally, during the month of June 2013, Scully left for good. Her heart, soul and body — her whole self — was one gigantic wound. To be safe, she installed a phone tracker on his computer as well as hers to be sure she could find Mulder. He did not object to this.

On occasion, they would call to check each other. Sometimes, they would have sex at her place or his.

"It's not over. It'll never be over as long as there's you and there's me and there's hope, and grace," Mulder said on one of these occasions. Scully knew this and she smiled gracefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this, I hope you liked it!  
> If you did, I'd be overwhelmed to read your comment (Kudos cheer me up too!).  
> If you didn't, I'd be pleased to know it too... 'cause I still have a whole lot of crap to write down... But it's gonna be some other stories!
> 
> Cheers! And again, thank you!
> 
> And a million thanks again to Michelle Krueger for helping me and editing / proofreading this work !

**Author's Note:**

> "Bridging the gap" is my first major fanfic (I had written a shorter one in 1998, check it out too!).
> 
> I really enjoyed writing it and sprinkling it with lots of references to the early seasons (and some from Californication). It also gave me the opportunity to inquire closely the Maya, as well as causes and symptoms of despression. Hope you enjoy it!


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